


An Avengers Tower Has Just The Correct Amount Of Responsible People

by watchingthestars13



Series: The Life And Times Of Emma Barton [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Clintasha happens first in like chapter 35, Clintasha- freeform, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Insomnia, M/M, Monsters, Nightmares, OC & Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Pre-Slash, Real slow, Secrets, Slow Build, Stony- freeform, Superfamily (Marvel), Tony's secret stash, aggressively pretends AoU never happened, battles, cereal raids, slight angst, some domestic fluff I think???, there's no one in the world better at making friends than Emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:59:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 69
Words: 279,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchingthestars13/pseuds/watchingthestars13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Natasha go on a mission to take down a drug lord who also has a toe in the human trafficking service. They find a small girl, who is seriously injured, and instead of letting Shield put the horrified girl back into the foster care system, they take her home to the Avengers Tower. Everything in their life changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiny Cells And Redheads

**Author's Note:**

> So, this started because my friend and I were discussing who is better, Natasha Romanoff or Matt Murdock, and I was like "Natasha Romanoff could kill me and I would be the happiest person on earth" and he said "Wow, I wonder how you would react to actually meeting the avengers" and that's how I ended up writing this and then everything just spun out of control. I am so sorry.

 

"Barton, now!" Natasha whispered over the comm. He fired an arrow into the chest of one of the druglord's henchmen, and panic broke out in the room. Zooom, another arrow, zooom, another one, and hey, there was Nat, kicking ass like usual.

Aah, work.

Natasha already had the drugs the druglord was trying to sell, and now all they had to do was keep him alive for S.H.I.E.L.D., so that was not the problem. The problem was that the druglord double-tracked as a trafficker, meaning that there might be hostages. Natasha had infiltrated the operation easy enough, the druglord liked his women redheaded. He fired another arrow and hit the guy who was trying to grab Nat off the creep's neck.

She had her killer thighs around another dude's neck, and damn, Clint almost wanted to be the guy, until he heard his neck snapping. But fuck, wasn't that the way to go.

Clint jumped out of the vent, shooting down the last two henchmen before skidding over to Natasha, with her one arm tightly wrapped around the guy's neck. He called himself Inferno, for some reason, but to be honest, Clint didn't give a shit about what that ass called himself.

"Hawkeye!" Natasha snapped, in her Widow voice, and gestured her head toward a few holding cells down the hall. "Check how many." Clint nodded and rushed over to the cells, finding them all... Empty.

"None!" he called.

"Are you sure?" Coulson asked in the comm.

"I'm pretty sure," he said back, calmly, using his 'I'm-right-shut-up' voice.

"Shit, do I not exist anymore?" he suddenly heard a small voice from one of the cells. Quickly, he dashed over to the last cell, where he found a small girl lying, her chest barely rising and falling. "Whoa, shit, Avengers," she mumbled, looked dazed. Her hair was filled with dried blood, and it was dark in her little cell, but from what little Clint could see, she definitely needed medical help.

"What-" Clint decided to ignore it. "Found one, in severe need of medical!" he snapped into the comm, grabbing an arrow and stabbing it into the lock of her cage. Who even used cages like these anyways? There were thick, black bars keeping the prisoner inside and a shitty mattress in the back, but the girl was on the floor, nails digging into the cement floor like she was in pain.

"Sweet, medical," she mumbled, and now she looked like she was going to pass out.

"Coulson!"

"Medics on their way, two minutes, Romanoff, Barton, get out of there," Coulson's calm voice came through.

"Got her?" Natasha's voice called out as Clint carefully picked up the girl, started walking. Natasha had cuffed the druglord, and now she was looking beautifully lethal in her torn dress. Clint pushed those thoughts out of the way, 'cause this was really not the time to eye his partner like that, and nodded her way.

Now the girl was really passed out in his arms, but in this light, he could see her hair, red and fiery with darker splotches of blood in it, and god, she was probably going to need lots of stitches if that was still bleeding.

Natasha almost let her Black Widow mask slip as she saw the girl in his arms, and even though Natasha would deny it on her deathbed, she had a soft spot for kids. The Red Room had tried to beat that out of her, but after years with Clint, she had softened up a little, getting more comfortable in expressing feelings. So nobody but him would know the tell-tale sign of her jaw clenching, her lips pursing ever so slightly when she watched him give the girl over to medics.

Coulson approached them.

"Good work, agents. We'll do the debriefing in the morning. Go home and get some sleep," he said gently. Natasha heard Clint groan as they started walking toward the car that would take them back to the Avengers tower. Clint shot a look at the girl as they shuffled her into the ambulance, closing the doors behind them.

"Hey Nat?"

"What?"

"Where do you think they're taking her?"

"No clue."

\---

Natasha couldn't sleep. Usually, she could rewind pretty quickly after missions as easy as this one, but she found that sleep wasn't coming to her. She had a few bruises about to form around her wrists from being captured, but otherwise she was fine. Clint was too. That usually got her too sleep. But no.

Her mind was whirring about the one child they had found. Redhead, much like her. The rest of the women that he had captured had had red hair, something that only slightly bothered her. The girl could not have been more than twelve, and seeing another girl being poisoned that early always brought up too many bad memories for Natasha's good.

"Jarvis?" Natasha whispered into her room.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" Jarvis' british tone answered, his volume lower than usual.

"Where are the other Avengers?" she asked quietly.

"Sir is in his workshop, Captain Rogers is on his way to the workshop, Dr. Banner is sleeping, Thor is in New Mexico, and Agent Barton's last appearance in the tower was on the roof," Jarvis' soothing voice said. Natasha's eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean Barton's 'last appearance' in the tower? Is he not here?"

"I believe not, Miss. My scans indicate that he is not in the tower or in the towers vicinity." Now Natasha was sitting up in bed, glaring at the ceiling.

"Well, where is he then?"

\---

Clint loved sleeping. It was great. But very recently, actually only a few hours ago, nightmares had resurfaced, and he had gone up to the roof to be alone. Even though he wanted to go to Natasha. She always knew what to do with his nightmares, and disliked his way of forgetting them: Getting rip-roaring drunk.

But now something else had his attention, so he was walking down the streets in the middle of the night, on his way to the SHIELD facility. What he loved more than sleeping, was arrows. And he knew just how to get a hold of those.

Carefully, he popped the vent to the training room, and dropped down on the floor, whistling when he saw a quiver stuffed with arrows on the wall. Grinning, he grabbed it and slung one of SHIELD's training bows over his shoulder. Coulson was really his favorite person in the world sometimes. Except himself. And Tasha.

Pulling the bow string back, he took a breath and aimed, his posture slightly tense. He released the arrow, and heard the telltale thump of it hitting it's target, before pulling another arrow from his quiver.

Arrow after arrow he shot, feeling very content and even happy, until he heard the door opening. He spun around quickly, arrow nocked, and stared at the intruder.

"Agent Barton. Why am I not surprised that you were the one to break into the training room in the middle of the night?" Coulson said calmly, lowering his gun. He was always way way too calm for Clint's liking. Ruffling feathers was really and truly the one thing Clinton Francis Barton loved the most.

"I couldn't stand hearing Steve and Tony moan through my roof," he shrugged dramatically, making Coulson's calm mask fall, if only for a second. Tony Stark sleeping with Phil Coulson's hero, 'defiling him' as Coulson so delicately put it, and an national icon was so much fun from the sidelines. Really really fun.

"Don't. Even." Clint was grinning from ear to ear.

"Had to." Coulson shook his head. His agents would drive him insane someday.

"The girl you rescued," he said slowly, as Clint put the arrow back into his quiver. His eyebrow quirked up.

"Yeah? What about her? Is she alive?"

"Yes. She didn't even have a trace of drugs in her." Clint frowned. That meant she came from his other department of business. Coulson scowled slightly too. "Yes. My thoughts exactly. And since you're here now, I suggest you pay her a visit. You rescued her. Maybe she will feel more comfortable with waking up with a face she knows at her side." Clint nodded. It wasn't as if he was going to get any sleep today anyways. Tonight? Tomorn- Eh, Whatever.

He followed Phil into Medical, and was led into a small room, where the little girl was asleep in a hospitalbed. Her hair was now washed, and he was surprised at how red it really was. It was even redder than Natasha's, and her skin was pale in that telltale way that said she had lost a lot of blood, her cheeks were round and her lips looked like one of a doll. She was that kid kind of adorable. Light freckles colored her nose and her cheeks, and she had her arms laying limply by her side. A few machines were attached to her, and he could hear the slow beeps of the heart rate monitor as her chest slowly rose and fell.

"How hurt is she?" he asked quietly.

"Blood loss from a blow to the head and cuts and scrapes a little bit of everywhere, including bruised ribs. Otherwise she seems to be okay. A sprained ankle, a few stitches in her side from what seems to be a knife wound. Apparently she's a fighter. If our sources are correct, she should have been with Inferno for almost three months." Clint suppressed a shudder. What could happen with a small girl in a drugring for three months?

"That's... Disturbing."

"To say the least." Coulson gave his shoulder a pat, before retreating, and Clint sat down in a very familiar and a very uncomfortable chair, leaning back. He could wait. He was patient.

 

It took a few hours for the girl to wake up. When she did so, she did it gracefully. With curses and groaning.

"Jesus fucksticks, what a headache," she mumbled, and Clint couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips as she opened her eyes, closed them again quickly. "Oh god. Am I dreaming?"

"I don't think so," Clint replied as she gazed down on him, blinking quickly and bringing her hands to her eyes so that she could rub them.

"Holy shit. Hawkeye is _not_ sitting by my bedside. No way in hell."

"You know who I am?" he asked, surprised. He was just 'the bow guy' to many people who didn't watch their press conferences, and kids usually didn't even know who he was. Her eyes popped open, revealing a set of blue-green-grey pearls that were so filled to the brim with shock that it would be hilarious, had he actually not been almost equally surprised.

"Holy shitballs. No fucking way," the girl nearly whispered to herself. "Hawkeye is seriously sitting by my bedside. Hey, cool, I have a bed." She suddenly snapped her eyes down to the needles in her arms. "Sweet. I'm probably drugged up again. Fuck. This was such a good one though. I hope I remember this."

"What are you talking about?" She looked up at him again.

"Jesus Emma, you have gone from fucked up to, like, top-notch crazy," she said to herself.

"Emma? That's your name?" She swallowed.

"Uh, yeah... And your's is Clint Barton. You work for SHIELD. Kinda. You're also an Avenger, and-"  
Just then, was when Natasha decided that it was totally the perfect time to storm in, and Emma looked like she had struck gold.

"Clint, why are you not in the tower?" Natasha asked, her tone clipped and sharp, and Clint just knew that she had had another nightmare.

"And your partner is the Black Widow," Emma nearly squealed. "Yup. I'm officially going to faint. I'm fangirling so much." Natasha looked severely confused for a moment, and Emma's heart was picking up speed. Obviously an Avengers fan.

"Oh. Yeah. Natasha, this is Emma," Clint offered, and Natasha nodded her way.

"Wow. Just... Wow. You are so kickass," she said to Natasha, who looked even more surprised. Getting Natasha Romanoff to smile had been a hard task for Clint, it had taken him almost a year to see that beautiful curve, and this kid accomplished it within seconds? 

Impressive.

Or maybe he was just that good at making people relax. Then he was the impressive one. 

"Thank you," Natasha said with a quiet chuckle, and Emma looked so starstruck that Clint was almost laughing too. This morning had been very confusing. How was this tiny child not scared? She'd been called a fighter by Coulson though.

"I cut my hair like you did!" she grinned, and then a sadness flashed over her features. "Not willingly, but yeah, whatever, it got better." At this Natasha's chuckle quieted, and she looked seriously at the small girl.

"Why did you not do it willingly?" she asked.

"Well, I kinda got it cut off. Some of the guys needed money, so they sold my hair for wigs," she said, brushed it off. "It's fine. It turned out the way I wanted it too after it had grown out a bit, anyway."

"Alright, first of all, do you have any relatives that we should alert that you're, alive and somewhat well?" Clint asked, locking his eyes on the little girl. She swallowed.

"No."

"No?"

"No," she said firmly.

"Okay then, Emma, tell us how you were captured," Natasha offered, and Emma scowled.

"Uh... That's going to take a little backstory..." she said slowly. Clint shrugged.

"At least we won't have to go debrief if you make it really really long, so please, pretty please, do," he said, winked at her, and Emma's heart looked like it had skipped a beat. She shot an angry glance at the machine betraying her, but then turned back to the two agents. Natasha's arms were crossed over her chest, and Clint was leaning on his knees, propping up his chin with his elbow on his knee. Emma looked a little uncertain. "It's okay kid. We're not dangerous."

"Actually, you're very very dangerous and could kill me in the blink of an eye," she said thoughtfully, which made Natasha's lips quirk a little. "Okay then. My parents died when I was like, what, seven? Yeah, probably seven, and I was put in a foster home for like two months. I just... Didn't click with the kids they already had. We really didn't get along. One of them teased me, said I wasn't really his sibling, and I said that then I didn't have to hold back, and I punched him. Really hard.

They shuffled me over to another family, and another, and then I found this great family, but the wife had cancer, and soon the other wife didn't have enough money to care for me, hospital bills and such, so I was ripped from them. I got put in this home for 'misunderstood children' and I ran away when I was about nine, ran away with the circus." Clint groaned.

"Really? Which circus?"

"A shitty one."

"Great. A carnie."

"Hey, aren't you a carnie too?" Emma asked. He groaned again, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I'm a former carnie."

"I am too, now. I was with them for three years and seven months, and then I ran away. They sure as fuck didn't know how to keep their hands to themselves." The last part was muttered under her breath, but Natasha caught it, and decided that it was definitely something to steer clear of. Therapists could poke at her after this, not them. "I've learned a lot of fighting from the carnies. Did you know that tiny redheads are apparently 'born to be banged'? And they meant that in both senses." She sighed and relaxed into the pillows, and Natasha's jaw tightened.

Too many flashbacks. Too much that was way too alike her and Clint. And it wasn't good. The two avengers weren't really poster children for great childhoods.

"Sooo, yeah. The circus wasn't something for me. What date is it?" she asked suddenly.

"The twenty-sixth of May," Natasha enlightened her. Emma frowned.

"Whoa, I was with Turbo-Crotch for three and a half months? _Dude_." Clint almost burst out laughing.

"'Turbo-Crotch?'" he asked, trying not to laugh his ass off. Emma shrugged.

"Inferno didn't suit him," she said. "He found me, told me all these nice things, and I didn't believe him, so he had someone beat me down and drag me into his hellhole. It was like being back with the circus again. But worse." Her eyes drifted, but she shook her head like she was dislodging something. "He likes to beat you up for being smart, apparently. Not the best environment for my smart ass to be in."

Now Clint wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or cry. Emma was throwing jokes more than Stark did when he was avoiding something especially painful.

"That's awful," Natasha spoke up quietly. Emma shrugged.

"You've had worse." Natasha changed her posture, to a bit more intimidating, probably not even on purpose, but Emma noticed. "Oh- sorry, I shouldn't be poking at that, right, uh..." she added quickly. Clint decided to, yet again, save the poor kid.

"So, you're a fan of the Avengers?" he asked, and Emma's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Uh, I mean, maybe, a little." Clint grinned. He wasn't one to judge.

"Well, you passed out from bloodloss, so they can't keep you here much longer, and since you don't have anyone rushing to greet you, why don't you swing by the tower with us?" She looked ready to pass out again.

"Really?" she said breathlessly. It ached inside Clint watching such a small life corrupted by so much terror already. The childish glee in her eyes was a reward in itself.

"Yeah. Totally."

\---

Natasha retold parts and bits of Emma's story in the debriefing, saying that she didn't have any kind of legal guardian. Fury nodded solemnly, not tearing his eye off the two agents. Saving people was their job. Taking care of lost children was not.

"Send for social services. Let them deal with that," he said to Coulson, and Clint held his tongue in check. Instead, it was Natasha who protested.

"Sir, you do realize that she has been in multiple homes and that was what got her into trouble in the first time?" she said, calmly, but with a bit of that rebellious tone that Clint had quickly grown to love over the years.

"I don't give a rats ass about how she got into trouble the first time, we can't guarantee that she won't go right back to the circus, or just dodge the social services," Fury said, looked at them both with his one eye, and wow, how did he pull that off?

"I'm pretty sure that she'll go right back to it unless you get some real parents that can outlast very probable PTSD in a teenager," Clint pointed out. "Sir," he added quickly, because getting his ass blasted to the moon by Fury was not on his to-do list today.

"Well then, you both have gracious amounts of experience with that, you take her," Fury snapped. Both of the agents froze, and began to protest, but Fury stood his ground. "You found her, take her. It's one girl, what harm could she do to you all in that goddamned tower?"

In the end, the two agents glumly left Fury's office, bummed out.

"Aw, man, we can't handle a teenager!" Clint whined.

"To be fair, she's only a very recent teen. Probably only twelve, thirteen years old," Natasha argued. "And you act like a teen too, you two will get along fine." Clint gave her a sarcastic smile as they walked through the doors of Emma's room.

Only to find her, fully clothed, and trying to get her foot back into her shoe, hissing curses as she did.

"Emma," Natasha's voice rang out, and Emma jumped, turned around quickly with her hands in the air, ready to punch, and big, scared eyes. When she saw who her visitors were, she backed a little, putting her weight on the leg behind the rest of her body, thus keeping as little weight on her injured foot as possible.

"Right. I thought you two left," she said slowly. "I'm not sticking around. I'm not going into a home again. To much shit happened last time." Clint shook his head.

"You're not going to a home," he said. "Or an orphanage. Or anything, actually." Now Emmas face was just a mixture of insecurities and confusion.

"Clint, try to make some sense," Natasha said, and elbowed him in the ribs gently. She tried for a motherly, soothing voice. She was pretty sure she missed the mark by a mile, but who could blame her? "You're not going to a home. We're taking care of you for a while." Emma's jaw went slack, and Clint hadn't even noticed her clenching it tightly.

"No way."

"Yeah way," Clint said, and Emma's eyes turned to small slits as she watched them carefully. Clint was beginning to think that there was more to her than it seemed. She was a fangirling teenager, but that didn't mean that the reason she was still alive, was that she was gullible. She'd lived with the carnies. She would've lost all her innocence there, all the horrors of the world on display for the residents to see and hear but never talk about.

"Come on. Me? The eye-patch dude doesn't care about me. He could just let me go," she said slowly, fiddling with something in her hand that caught Natasha's eye. It didn't look like a weapon, and come on, this was just one teen girl. How much trouble could she cause?

"Well, we don't want to let you back with the carnies. Pack your stuff, if you have anything you actually need to pack," Clint said, smiling that easy smile that could make basically anything melt. Even Coulson sometimes. "I'll call Happy."  
\---


	2. Confusion And Bird spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically introductions. And confusion. Lots of confusion.

 

"Whoa. Uh-does the boss know about this?" Happy asked hesitantly as they got in the black, sleek car.

"No," Natasha replied calmly, collected. She was actually panicking a little on the inside now. How the hell were the Avengers supposed to take care of a child? Tony probably hadn't slept in like a week, he constantly forgot eating and showering, Clint still made nests of pillows in high places all over the tower, Thor made popcorn with _lightning_ for gods sake, they acted like children, and to be honest, it was amazing none of them had died yet.

"We should call Pepper," Clint said as Happy pulled out from the curb, and Natasha shook her head.

"She's been really busy since Tony crashed into that mall last time the alarm went off," she said, leaning back in her seat. Emma was fiddling with something again, and now Natasha was curious. "What's that?" Emma flinched, and shoved the item into her jeans jacket's pocket.

"Nothing," she said evasively, glancing out the windows. "So, uh... The other Avengers... Are they nice?" At the uncertainty that crossed Emma's features, Natasha softened. They were throwing her from one hostile environment, to SHIELD, to the Avengers tower. She was obviously very jostled, and looked tired although she was putting up a brave front. Steve was going to love her.

"Yeah, totally, unless you get between Tony and his coffee machine, or his cereal stash, which he thinks he hides brilliantly. He doesn't. I'll show you it later. Oh, right, and Bruce's big green thing might be another thing that's not very nice. But sometimes he is. He's saved my ass a lot. And Tony's. And Nat's. Alright, he's saved like everybody, but whatever, you're new, so he'll be really nice to you. And Steve, he's the golden boy, he's nice, unless you put him and Tony in the same room for too long. Then he either gets in Starks pants, or in the mood of being a little more rebellious than usual. And... Well, Thor, he's just a little too nice," Clint said nonchalantly. Emma smiled.

"That... Sounds like chaos under one roof," she decided. "I like that. I prefer chaos to order."

"Then this will be like paradise to you," Natasha said, glancing out the window at the dawning Stark tower. "Let's blow the roof off," she muttered as Happy stopped in the garage.

"So, wait, is... Is JARVIS real?" Emma asked, as she jumped out of the car, basically bouncing with excitement.

She was wearing jeans, white-washed and soft jeans, but she could still kick in them, and that was what mattered to her. Wearing restricting clothes was something she'd had enough of in the circus. In her jeans jacket and plain, purple t-shirt, she looked like a normal girl, next to an archer still in his vest and tight pants, and a very lethal woman on her other side, in a jacket, but with a pyjama t-shirt underneath that revealed her liking of pegasuses. Natasha's black pants and heels did nothing to hide her curves.

Not that it should. Clint didn't mind. He did far from mind.

"I am indeed real, miss," Jarvis spoke up, and Emma's eyes got impossibly bigger.

"No fucking way! How cool is that?" she exclaimed.

"Miss Romanoff, do you have the clearance codes for this lively child?" Jarvis asked.

"She's with us," Clint said as they reached the elevators. "Where are the other Avengers?"

"Sir and Captain Rogers are in the shower," Jarvis said dryly, and Clint smirked. Emma gaped at the roof in the elevator as they stepped in. "Dr. Banner is in the common area, and Prince Thor is playing on the Wii."

"Thank you, Jarvis," Natasha said. "Take us to the common floor, please." The elevator started going up, and Emma was fidgeting again, but now both of them knew that she didn't feel like telling them, so they stayed silent through the ride, standing casually next to each other.

The doors opened to reveal the large kitchen in white, with the huge silvery refrigerator, and the table and the kitchen island. They heard victorious whoops from inside the common room to the right, and Clint waved around the space.

"So yeah, this is where all the food is, well, most of it, and in here," he began, and walked into the common room. Bruce looked up, but Thor was laughing heartily at the tv, and didn't even notice their entrance. "That, over there, is the good Dr. Banner, and Thor." Emma gasped.

"Oh my god, they're real," she nearly squealed. Bruce blinked.

"So that's what happened in Budapest? You had a kid?" he said slowly, and the two agents looked so shell-shocked that Bruce had to smile.

"You think I'm their kid? That's... Kind of alarming," Emma said, frowning slightly.

"N-no, we didn't have a kid in Budapest," Clint suddenly burst out laughing. "This is Emma. We recently rescued her on a mission. She, uh, well, Fury may or may not have told us to keep her." Bruce still looked confused.

"But she..." Instead he just shook his head again, smiled kindly at Emma. "Emma. That's a nice name. Welcome to the Avengers tower. Please try not to get sucked into Clint's shenanigans."

"Thanks. And I'm not even going to try not to," Emma said. Thor turned around, and looked at Emma.

"Archer! How your daughter's beauty reflects her mother's!" he beamed. Clint frowned this time.

"What? She's not my daughter!" he said, confused. Thor looked confused too, and Natasha tried really really hard not to roll her eyes.

"Thor, this is Emma. We rescued her from a mission. She'll be staying with us," she said, and Emma grinned at Thor.

"Wow, I'm such an Avengers fan. Making shit blow up, rescuing people. Sounds like a dream," she beamed. "And Mjölnir, oh my god, it's very very cool. And god of thunder? Awesome. Your mom, Frigga, right? Is she the god that claimed you needed kittens, or was that Freya?"

"That was indeed Freya," Thor boomed, smiling. "Are you familiar with Asgardian history?"

"Yeah, a little," she shrugged. "Mythology is one of my favorite things. Except for maybe Lucky Charms."

"Oh, the fight over the Lucky Charms will devastate the kitchen," Clint said, holding a finger up at Emma and waggling it.

"Or you could just share, and try not to be the three-year-old you really are on the inside," Natasha said, rolled her eyes. Emma was in love with them already.

\---

After being shown the Avengers different living quarters, Emma was very much in love. Very very much. But then Clint and Natasha had to go and change, and she was left alone in the kitchen, humming quietly and looking up at the ceiling as if it was going to fall down on her.

Suddenly she felt a need to try something.

"Jarvis?" she said quietly. No response. "Of course not, I'm probably not allowed to talk to him."

"You are quite allowed to talk to me, miss," Jarvis suddenly said, and it startled her. She reached for the knife in her shoe, but didn't actually grab it, just had her hand waiting, grasping at the air around the handle. Emma couldn't hold back a breathless laugh.

"Whoa. That is so ridculously cool," she said to no-one in particular.

"Quite," Jarvis agreed. Emma smirked.

"So... What's up?" she asked. Jarvis seemed slightly perplexed at the question, he didn't answer right away. "Oh, right, uh, I'm Emma. Cli-Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff brought me in. But I'm pretty sure I'm going to be leaving soon."

"How so?" Jarvis asked.

"I don't get to stay in families for long. Something always happens," she said, swallowed. Was she really getting emotional talking to a computer? That has got to be the nerdiest thing she has ever experienced.

"Do you have a surname?" Jarvis asked. Emma smirked up at the ceiling.

"Are you trying to make a file about me?" she asked.

"No. I am simply curious."

"I do have one, and I don't go by it, so, no use telling you," she said with a shrug.

"Very well then," Jarvis mused. Suddenly, the elevator doors opened, and Tony fucking Stark walked in, in a black t-shirt and old jeans, with wet, messed up hair and... Bite marks on his neck? Emma couldn't help the gasp that slipped from her mouth. He was obviously not paying attention to his surroundings, deeply buried in his Starkphone and mumbling into nothing.

"Holy shit," Emma breathed, trying not to freak out. Meeting all of her heroes was going to give her an aneurysm. Tony suddenly stopped in his tracks, and looked up at the child sitting by his kitchen island, looking mesmerized.

Whoa. Back the fuck up. Why did this small child remind him very much of two people who lived under this very roof?

"Who the fuck let the spy kids reproduce?" Tony said out loud before he could stop himself, shell shocked. The little girl actually blushed.

"I'm not their kid, for the fifth time," she grumbled. Tony put his phone down, leaning on the kitchen island, and meeting those eyes filled with shock and starstruckness.

"Well then, who are you, and how did you get in?" Tony asked. She leaned on the island too, looking up at him with faked innocence.

"Me? Oh, I just took the elevator right up," she said, batted her eyelashes. Tony's eyes narrowed.

"J, how did she get in?" he demanded.

"Young Emma came earlier today with the two agents, they said that she was allowed in," Jarvis said, and the small redhead, whose name apparently was Emma, groaned.

"Jarvis! I was having fun!" she pouted. Tony looked at her, trying to decide if she was a potential threat or not, when Jarvis responded.

"His look was priceless, but I usually refrain from lying to Sir about my knowledge of people's presence in the tower." Emma laughed.

"That's... Very good. Maybe I can get you to lie about something else. You're a hoot, Jarvis," she smirked. "What does Jarvis stand for, anyways?"

"Just A Rather Very Intelligent System," Tony said, as he turned around and turned on the coffee machine.

"Wow. That's fucking cool. The thermometer has broken, it's really that cool," she breathed.

"It is actually only seventy-six degrees outside, miss," Jarvis said, and you could almost hear the smile in his british voice.

"Ha ha. Very funny," Emma said sarcastically.

"I thought so, young miss."

The elevator dinged again, and Emma's look snapped over to the doors as they slid apart, revealing Steve. Fucking. Rogers. Captain America. In a white t-shirt that was desperately clinging to his chest, and sweatpants.

"Wow, yup, aneurysm," Emma said under her breath as Steve smiled at her, before his face went slack, and he stopped in his step.

"That's... You're not Natasha," he said slowly.

"Uh, no, I am not," Emma said, swallowed. "Wow, the hot ones are always gay." At that Steve Rogers started blushing, and Tony grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him into his arms.

"Back off, sugarcakes, he's mine," he said, grinning.

"'Sugarcakes'? Really? I am offended," she said, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

"How about... 'Bird Spider'?" Tony suggested smugly. Emma's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not their kid!" she exclaimed.

"Kid? Natasha and Clint's kid?" Steve said, eyes wide. Emma groaned.

"No, I'm not their kid, I'm a mission gone wrong and I'm probably not going to stay here for that long anyways."

"Stay? You're going to stay?" Tony said, looking intrigued. The vent popped open in the ceiling, and Clint landed gracefully on the kitchen island.

"Stay? Emma? Oh, yeah, right, she should get her own room, you know, to decorate and stuff. I bet you don't remember having your own room? Me and Nat share a floor, you can probably bunk with us. Right, Stark?" Clint said, not leaving room for argument as he stared Tony down, who defensively tucked into his super solider.

"Why not? The more the merrier! Just, don't tell the press that I said that."

\---

Three hours later, and Clint wandered into Natasha's bedroom, found her sitting in a chair, reading a book.

"Hey Nat," he said softly, and she looked up at him, nodding.

"Hi."

"Wanna hear something weird?"

"Do I?"

"You wanna hear this," Clint said and plopped down in front of her chair, letting his head drop back against the cushion so that he could look up at her. Blue eyes locked with green, and she tilted her head, a sign telling him to continue talking. "Everybody thinks Emma is our child. Like, everybody. Bruce, Thor, Steve, and especially Tony, he will not let it go. He even had Bruce run a DNA test."

"He has our DNA?" Natasha frowned.

"We live with him, who knows what he has?" Her frown deepened. "But... She isn't our child, right?" Natasha raised an eyebrow his way and he shrugged. "I don't know, she does kind of look like you."

"She... She kinda does. But it's impossible. For many reasons." Clint grinned.

"Yeah yeah. She's moving in on our floor." Natasha sighed.

"God, how are we going to entertain a teen here? What do we do when we have to go on missions?"

"She's twelve, I'm pretty sure she'll be able to handle herself for a few hours," Clint shrugged, ever the optimist.

"But what if we don't come back?"

She let the words out without thinking, and Clint frowned.

"I got your back. We'll come back," he said.

"I've got your back too," Natasha said softly, carded her fingers through his hair lightly. He closed his eyes, let her play with his hair for a while.

"I know." A soft sigh slipped through his lips. "That feels nice."

"Really?"

"Mhm." She picked her book up again, but continued the movement of her hands, and soon, Clint was asleep. He felt like he deserved a nap, he only slept two hours last night. Morning. Day? Eh, whatever.

That's how Tony found them, Natasha's hand buried in Clint's blonde hair, with her head leaned back in the chair, eyes closed. As soon as he was about to step out of the room, Natasha's eyes snapped open, and she blinked quickly, saw Tony in the doorway. She offered him a small smile.

"Tony," she greeted quietly. He nodded and bit his lip, trying to fight his instinct to pry, thinking about last time, when Natasha almost broke two of his ribs. That had not been a good day.

"So, uh-"

"Go."

"Right, got it," he said, and turned on the spot, missed Natashas smirk as he walked into the room next to hers, where a grey carpet with a green tone had been placed, and saw Emma standing in there, looking a little conflicted. "Hey," he said, leaning on the doorframe.

"Hi," Emma said carefully, her eyes trained on the carpet. "This is... Nice. Too nice. Why are you being so nice to me?"

"You don't fuck around with Romanoff," Tony shrugged. "And she wants you here. So. No whining. Although, Jarvis has become partial to you too. Somehow you've managed to charm the non-exsistent heart of the world's most intelligent AI in only a few hours, I'm very impressed by the way, and he would object to you leaving. But, you seem like a good kid. So, here's your room. My floor is one step up. And Steve's, but you probably knew that already."

"Yeah," Emma smiled. "You're cute. I totally ship you two."

"Ship us? Really?" Tony grinned. "Why?" She shrugged.

"Steve seems like a nice guy. A shy, not very outgoing guy. And you're kind of the opposite. Opposites attract. Or don't. Whatever. You're cute though." Tony grinned.

"Thank you very much, although I already knew I was awesome, hearing someone else say it just makes it better." Emma scoffed.

"How does that little helmet of your's fit all that ego? It has got to creak in it's hinges when you move your head," Emma smiled. Tony laughed.

"I think this will become very enjoyable," he grinned and walked down the halls to the elevator.

\---


	3. Cereal Raids and Avengers Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma survives her first morning in the tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue where this is going. I'm just working with it as I go. Also, this is my first ever Avengers fic, and I have like, no experience whatsoever with fics. 
> 
> Sadly enough, I don't own the Avengers. Emma is the only thing that belongs to me.

 

Dinner passed with only silent remarks from Emma, and she was kind of subdued. Clint noticed. Natasha noticed. They exchanged knowing glances, before everyone was trotting off to bed, Tony disappearing into his workshop.

Emma's bed was too soft. She couldn't sleep. She hated beds. She rolled off the bed and onto the floor, in only her t-shirt now, and pulled the blanket tightly around herself. God, getting out of old habits was really not something she could pull off.

Lying in the bed had felt like being choked by a huge marshmallow. Lying on the carpeted floor felt like being choked by a slightly harder marshmallow. Grunting, Emma grabbed a tight hold on her blanket, and stood up.

"Jarvis, are you up?" she asked, and immediately wanted to get choked by that marshmallow bed of hers, because of course Jarvis was up, he was a goddamned computer that was basically as essential to Tony as his lungs were.

"Yes, I am, young miss Emma," Jarvis soft british accent said into the dark room.

"Just call me Emma, I'm not that young," she frowned.

"As you wish, miss Emma," he replied. She rolled her eyes. Good enough.

"Thank you. Uh... Who else is still up?" she asked uncertainly.

"Everyone is asleep but Captain Rogers," Jarvis said.

"Oh. Uh... Where is he?"

"In the common area."

"Thank you, Jarvis," Emma said quietly.

"Anytime, miss Emma."

Quickly, she checked the lock on her door, made sure she could open it. It was one of her fears, being back in that cage with that asshole, Inferno, and his men. Being locked up. She slowly ventured her way out of her room, and laid down on the couch, hoping that it was as uncomfortable as it looked.

No such luck. It was surprisingly soft and squishy, so instead, she laid down on her back on the hard wooden floor, and curled up into a ball. It felt a little more familiar, except now she didn't have to fight for her right to live. She missed Charlie.

Charlie, the charming guy with the navy blue eyes that helped her. She hated him, and kind of loved him. He had protected her, and then he had fled the lands. Or something like that. It wasn't fair. He had left her with a necklace that she couldn't stop fiddling with, and a promise that she would never see him again. Fucking Charlie.

She looked down on her hands, studied them in the glum light the moon was letting through the clouds and the windows. The cuts she had received had been minor, and her body healed like mad. The blow to the head had been gone by dinner, and the scraps on her knees had healed after that.

As the doctors had said. Nothing lethal.

Emma turned over on her stomach, finding some comfort in the hardness of the floors, and the lovely moon looking down on her.

She finally had a window.

\---

When Clint saw Emma lie on the floor with her eyes open, he didn't question it. It was something he himself did sometimes. Slept with his eyes open. It was definitely a circus thing, and Natasha said it was creepy, but it was so that no one touched your stuff. Making it look like you never slept made you look crazy, like you were one of them.

"Why is Emma sleeping on the floor?" Natasha asked softly from behind him, and Clint looked up to see her standing there in her ridiculous pegasus pj's.

"I don't know. I think her bed is too soft. Let's just think about the fact that she slept on concrete for the past three and a half months, and before that she lived with a circus. The sleeping conditions there are really shitty. You either bunk in the cages or you try to get yourself into a wagon without any rowdy and handsy guests. Or ones that could kill you," he said.

"You survived. And so did she."

"Yeah, well, that's because of Barney," he mumbled to himself. It wasn't often that Clint talked about his brother, but Natasha knew some things about him. That before Clint turned into SHIELD, he was with the Swordsman, and Trick Shot, and Barney Barton. He left his brother to the wolves. Of course, that wasn't everything, but it was enough.

"He saved you a lot," she said softly. Clint nodded, looked down on Emma again.

"Yeah. When dad got way too rowdy. When Trick Shot got angry. When carnies wanted to beat me up for stealing," he recalled, looking strangely unphased.

"Did you steal a lot?"

"Nah. Just enough to keep me and Barney running." They both stayed silent for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence, a calm silence. They knew each other to well to get uncomfortable around each other anymore.

"We should probably wake her up," Natasha said.

"Let her sleep. She probably needs it."

Suddenly Emma started twisting in her blankets, and turned on her back, before blinking slowly, rubbing her eyes. She felt around on the cold cement-

Whoa now. Wait a minute.

Wooden floors. She wasn't with Inferno anymore, right. Avengers.

"Morning, smiley. You're not claustrophobic, are you?" Clint beamed down on her. She groaned.

"No?"

"Great. We're heading to the cereal stash. Go get dressed," Clint said, and Emma slowly stood up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and yawning. He grinned at Natasha, and she just rolled her eyes before heading back into her  
bedroom, probably to get dressed.

\---

This is not normal, Emma decided as she and Clint crawled through the vents.

"Okay, but really, why is Tony so very protective of his cereal?" she asked, but Clint held a finger to his mouth, signaling her to be quiet. This was not how she pictured her morning going, but damn, it was actually pretty fun exploring the tower like this, seeing things through the grates only to crawl over to the next room and see something even more exciting. It was amazing.

"Here," Clint said, and pointed down the grate. "Okay. Right. This is our plan. You drop down and get the cereal in the closet over there, and I pull you back up again. Deal?"

"Uh, why can't you drop down?"

"Do you think you can pull me back up?"

"...Good point." Clint popped the grate off, and her feet gently hit the carpet of the room. Damn. Tony's bedroom was four times the size of hers, with a king size bed and red covers, where Steve was currently sleeping. She had to be really, really quiet.

She found the Lucky Charms in Tony's closet, and she carefully picked it up, tip toed back to the grating. Clint took the cereal, and she was almost sure that he was going to leave her in Tony's bedroom without the cereal she had fought so hard for, when he pointed to the grating and stretched an arm out. Blinking in surprise, she took a hold of the grating, and took Clint's calloused hand, surprised at the roughness of his skin when he pulled her up and into the vents again.

"Yes," she mouthed, and fist pumped the air, and Clint was grinning ear to ear as they snuck back through the vents.

Had Emma paid a little more attention, she would have seen the smile the super solider was sporting as she was pulled into the vents.

\---

"HOW?!" Tony exclaimed. "WHY?! How do you find them?! Do you have a cereal sense?!" Emma just scooped up another mouthful of cereal as Clint blinked innocently Stark's way.

"Me? I didn't do anything," he said, pouting. "Why do you always accuse me?"

"Because you're the only other person in this tower who actually eats the same cereal as I do! Natasha doesn't like the marshmallows, Steve needs to eat a lot more than some puny cereal, and Bruce too, but I, the only one who needs his cereal, I have to-Umpfh!" Steve silenced his lover with a kiss, and Tony looked a little stunned for a second. He then grumbled a little, but turned to his coffee machine, who was happily supplying a stream of caffeine.

Everyone seemed to be in a relatively good mood, and then Pepper Potts barged in.

"Anthony Stark, go get dressed for the meeting!" she nearly yelled, and Tony flinched, used Steve as a human shield.

"Please, Pep, no, don't-" he began, but then Steve bent down a little and whispered something in his ear. Tony was pouting now. "You're a traitor!" he called as he stomped off to the elevators. Pepper mouthed a 'thank you' to Steve, who just tucked his hands into his pants with a nod, blushing.

"Alright Avengers, you have a-" she cut herself off as she saw Emma sitting in between the assassin and the archer. "Oooh. So that's what happened in Budapest..."

"That's what I said!" Bruce chimed in excitedly, but Clint just shook his head.

"Not our kid, for fucks sake," he said, frowning.

"Language," Steve warned, and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice. Clint made a face at his back, that had Emma snickering.

"Right, Pepper Potts, meet Emma... Wow, we don't know your last name," Clint remarked.

"Don't mind it," she shrugged. "Just Emma, really."

"I'm Pepper," she said, smiling gently. "So, did you get to design your room?"

"Uh... Yeah," Emma said, and something uncertain flickered over her features. "But Thor's taking me shopping for a whole new wardrobe. As a druglord's prisoner, you don't really have a lot to choose from." Pepper looked shocked.

"We rescued her," Natasha explained, sipping her tea.

"Of course. You look a lot like-"

"Yeah, we know," Natasha and Clint said at the same time, and Emma smiled.

"Heard it before," she added. Pepper nodded slowly.

"Jarvis, status on Tony," she said to the ceiling.

"Sir is whining about his socks," Jarvis said, and a soft smile crossed over Steve's lips as he thought about his adorable boyfriend. Pepper sighed.

"I'm on my way up," she grumbled, and did a 180  turn on her six inch heels with impressive speed, stomped off.

"I think that out of all of the Avengers, I like Pepper the most," Emma said out loud.

"Me too," Natasha murmured next to her, and Emma threw her a smile over her shoulder at her. Natasha smiled back.

\---


	4. Tension and Thors Unspoken Shopping Obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension. And Thor really feels like he would be mesmerized by shopping. And slight angst???? Secrets anyways.

 

Clint and Natasha went sparring after sending Thor, Emma, and after some consideration, Steve, to the mall. Punches were flying, and very soon, Clint was lying on the mat, with a panting Natasha on top of him, straddling him and pinning his hands down.

"Fine. You win," he breathed, and Natasha gave him this cheeky grin before rolling off him, popping to her feet.

"Why are you giving up to quickly?" Natasha wondered, that small victorious smile on her face still.

"I'm tired."

"Nightmares?"

"No. Just... Couldn't sleep."

"You should have come over to me," she said, holding out a hand to him.

"It's fine. I didn't want to bother you," he shrugged as she pulled him up. Natasha squinted at him, clearly suspicious and not believing him. She was wise enough to let it slide.

"Want to try distractions?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, walking over to the shooting range, where his bow lay. He slung his quiver over his shoulder, and pulled an arrow, nocking it. 'Distractions' was a thing they both had invented years ago. As both of them had really good aim, practicing not being distracted, was a very good skill to add. So they practiced it. She began with the usual taunts, tickling him, trying to punch him. He wasn't fazed.

And then, Natasha had a horrible horrible idea.

Her hands went down to his hips, and Clint had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen next, but he kept his aim steady, and hoped and begged on the inside that what he thought was going to happen was, in fact, not going to happen.

His fears were confirmed when Natasha's hands eased down his strong stomach, and she was holding her breath, because no matter how many times she felt those muscles under her palms, she never got enough of it. Keeping a professional air around it, like treating injuries, that was something that she could hide her breathlessness with. But not this time.

Purely for the distraction, she thought, waiting for him to wince away. But he didn't, and her hands were slipping over his pants. She slowly got on her knees, and Clint's jaw was clenched tight as her fingertips brushed over the seam on his pants.

Finally, when Clint was literally about to die from lack of oxygen if he held his breath any longer, he flinched away. And Natasha's face switched from wonder to victorious in the snap of a second.

"Hah! I win!" she smiled, but she had been so close, and now she had to calm down so that he didn't notice what he was doing to her.

"Your turn," Clint said, not really trusting his own voice. They made their way back to the mats, ignoring racing hearts and thoughts that could poison this friendship they had worked so hard to establish.

\---

"I'm speechless," was all that Emma could hear from behind all the bags and the boxes.

"Yeah, turns out Thor really really loves IKEA?" she said, looking for whatever fucking part D was.

"Need some help?" Natasha offered.

"That would be great," she said. The carpet was gone, replaced with dark wood. The white walls weren't white anymore, they were filled with posters from movies, bands, and two sketches pretty obviously drawn by Steve. One was of a girl pouting, one that looked a lot like Emma, and the other was all the Avengers, with a girl that was definitely was Emma in front of them, standing there, smiling.

"It looks great," Natasha said, and Emma scoffed.

"I feel like I used all of Tony's money," she said, looked a little guilty.

"Oh, believe me, he has a lot more than you could spend in half a day," Natasha said with a smile. She regarded the girl as she stabbed a pole into a big piece of dark wood that was probably her new desk. "About what you said about your hair... Circus guys?"

"Nah, some dumbasses in Turbo-Crotch's group. Poker money or something. I wasn't listening," she said, shrugging as she grabbed a part and lit up when she realized that it was actually part D. It tore Natasha's heart in pieces seeing her so casual about this. Maybe she was like Tony about that, Natasha thought, turn every wound into a joke.

"Hey, how's your head?"

"My head?"

"Yes, you had a pretty big gash there. I think you even got stitches," Natasha said, turning around from the chair she was trying to build to look at Emma's head.

"Oh. I didn't need stitches," Emma lied, but her back was turned to Natasha, so Nat couldn't tell. "Fuck, I can't reach that thing," she muttered. "Where's Thor when you need him?"

"In Asgard. That's always where he is when we need him," Natasha said as she tightened a screw on the chair. It looked comfortable. Emma chuckled.

"Sounds about right," she muttered and pulled something out of her jeans pocket, fiddling with it. Natasha had to use almost every ounce of self-control she had in her not to rip the small item from the girl's hands.

"That's a lot of clothes," Natasha commented as she watched the pile of clothes surrounding the closet that was built into the wall, and the many bags.

"I know. Thor said it was shameful that I only owned one pair of shoes. I now own seven. The minimum, according to him. Dressy shoes, flip flops, name it and I have it."

"Hm. Heels?"

"Yup. Reluctantly bought them."

"Work-out sneakers?"

"Won't need them, but yes."

"High high heels?"

"What, do you want me to break my ankles? No."

"Pepper rocks high high heels."

"Yeah, well, Pepper can walk in them," Emma said, as Natasha sat down in the now finished chair. "Jarvis, please tell me that I don't ever have to shop again."

"I am not sure, but since you are still growing, I assume you will have to, miss Emma," Jarvis said, amused.

"Ugh, fuck, my feet hurt," she groaned and fell back on the now significantly harder bed. Natasha could tell someone got her a new mattress.

"I think it's Steve's turn to cook today," Natasha said suddenly. "It is. Isn't it, Jarvis?"

"It is indeed Captain Rogers turn to cook, Agent," Jarvis answered.

"He's a great chef. You'll love his food," Natasha said, and Emma nodded slightly before rubbing a hand over her forehead. "Headache?"

"Yeah... A little bit."

"Do you want some water?"

"No thanks." Emma looked uncertain, and this time Natasha really noticed. "What's wrong?" Emma flinched, as if she had just cocked a gun against her head.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said, swallowing. "I'm going to... Fix with my clothes for a while. Put them in the closet. Thanks for your help." Natasha saw that as a sign to leave, and smiled at Emma, before leaving the girl alone, not closing the door behind her.

Emma swallowed down tears as she pushed the door closed, and sank down in the chair Natasha had just put together, pulled her knees up.

"This is very concerning. I shouldn't be treated this nicely. They don't know what I've done," she said to no one in particular. "This is going to hurt like fuck when something happens. Like, nuke inside my head kind of pain. I should probably escape now that I can. Through the vents. Clint mentioned a way out to the roof, right? I can grab a jet pack. I bet Tony has one."

"If I may interject," Jarvis began. "Sir does not give out his jet packs for free."

"-But he does have jet packs?"

"He does."

"Awesome."

"That was not my point," Jarvis said. "If I may say so, you do not have a legal guardian. You can not go outside of this building without people seeing you and restraining you."

"Aw, Jarvis, I'm so touched, you don't want me to leave," she snapped, and suddenly she really needed air. Closed rooms wasn't her strong suit.

"That's not what I meant," Jarvis protested as she dashed out of her room, over to the big windows. She leant her head against the cool glass. She needed to go outside. Like, desperately.

Like an answer to her prayers, Clint Barton popped the vent and dropped from the ceiling, crouching as he did so.

"I bet you use those things so much there isn't even dust in them," Emma laughed. Clint looked up at her, his eyes laughing.

"Depends on which parts of them. Want me to show you the way to my favorite place?"

"Except for Tony's closet?"

"I have pulled so many good pranks on him from that closet," Clint sighed dreamily, and Emma shook her head at him, grinning.

"Show the way, Hawkeye."

\---

Was she surprised that Clint Barton's favorite place was the roof? No. Was she very happy that it was? Yes.

Emma's legs were thrown over the edge, and Clint was sitting next to her, eating nuts as they gazed over the New York City skyline. The city was humming with life, cars honking and people walking the streets.

"I like high places," Clint announced. He had been in the training room throwing knifes at a target that looked suspiciously like Loki's face, when Jarvis told him that Emma seemed to be panicking, and that Natasha had just left her floor. So, the roof it was.

"To see things better, right?"

"Yeah. And to breathe." Emma nodded, stared at one specific building.

"In the circus, I used to be a line dancer. Because I could walk like a cat on a line, and I wasn't scared of heights," she said, whisked a red curl out of her face.

"Miss it?"

"Being high up in the air? Kinda. Squeezing into those dirty suits? Not even a little." Clint chuckled.

"I learned how to shoot in the circus," he offered.

"I did too."

"You know how to shoot?"

"Yeah. A little. Charlie tried to teach me."

"Who's Charlie?" Clint asked, looked at her. She didn't meet his gaze.

"He... Was a guy I knew. He taught me how to shoot, and keep hands off me, and my stuff," she shrugged. "He left the circus. And he didn't bring me with him."

"We could try to find him for you," Clint offered, and Emma scoffed.

"Useless. When he doesn't want to be found, you won't find him."

"Oh." Emma gave him a sad smile, shrugged.

"Whatever. So... How much do I have to pay you to get me into one of the training rooms?"

\---


	5. Shots and Pasta Takes The Pain Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly explicit beginning, not that much, but for the sensitives out there, I'm letting you all know. Then there's deals. And pasta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll, man. I've been trying to update everyday, but I have this huge thing for school right now, and when I get home I have to do so much shit... Ugh. Well, here's a chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Natasha was lying in bed, a hand inbetween her legs, and moaning. Louder than she should.

She rolled over on her stomach and pressed her face into the pillows, plunging her fingers into herself and curling them, biting down on her lip to shut up, but she couldn't, and she couldn't stop either. Clint's bulge under her fingertips had been such a breathless moment, and then the adrenaline from sparring afterwards, it was driving her up the walls.

So here she was. Fingering herself, imagining it being Clint's calloused fingers inside herself, and not her own. She moaned quietly again, her noise muffled from the pillow. When she had started feeling more than respect for Clint Barton, she didn't know. When she had started feeling this... Attraction to him, she didn't know either.

"Clint," she breathed when she came, groaning into her pillow at the wetness around her fingers. She just lay there for a while, breathing through her nose with closed eyes.

Slowly, she got up, and self-loathing was shooting up her throat. _Don't get attached, Natalia_ , she heard her trainers scolding her, and she pushed the thoughts down. Not Natalia anymore, she thought.

"God, I need a good old shooting session," she mumbled to herself as she made her way to the bathroom connected to her bedroom. After showering and dressing, she made her way down to the shooting range, only to find Clint there. And Emma.

Shit.

"No, see, little higher, and you would score," Clint remarked, a firm grip on the gun in Emma's hands, as Natasha stopped in her tracks, trying to as quietly as possible make her exit. But of course, the world didn't want to give her that pleasure, and Clint turned around, waved at her as a shot rang in the air.

"That's not- I missed the fucking target!" Emma exclaimed. "Your advice sucks."

"Hey! Maybe if you didn't keep redirecting the goddamned gun, you would hit it!" Clint said back, nudged her in the ribs. Emma squealed, and Natasha realized just how much Clint was like a teenager.

"Shut up, I'm not moving it!"

"You are!"

"No way!"

"Clint," Natasha interrupted. He looked up at her with those light blue eyes.

"Yes, Nat?" he said, and Emma glanced inbetween them.

"Why is a twelve year old shooting our guns?" she asked, crossed her arms across her chest.

"Uh... Well... She asked if she could?" he said, and tilted his head a little, looked confused. Natasha couldn't help but notice how bird-like the gesture was.

"Clint..." Natasha sighed. "And you just let her?"

"Under my supervision!"

"That's not safe supervision."

"It is! I am hurt, Tasha, really," he said dramatically, placed a hand on his heart, and Natasha rolled her eyes. Nicknames were something that basically only he could get away with.

"I want to try your bow. See if it's any good," Emma said, nudging him, and his eyes narrowed at her.

"It's really different from a gun," he pointed out.

"I know. Please?" Clint grumbled, but snapped his bow out, gave it to Emma. "It's probably a little too heavy for you."

"Yeah. Do you have a smaller one?"

"Mhm," he hummed and walked over to the wall of weapons they stocked in there.

"Clint? When I said that you're not a safe supervisor? I meant that she should stop shooting," Natasha remarked.

"I've done it before," Emma said, waved it off.

"See? She can safely supervise herself," Clint said. "Plus, her aim is shit, she couldn't hit me if I was standing right in front of her."

"Hey!" Emma exclaimed. "Rude! I can totally hit you! Come at me, Barton!" Natasha sighed and grabbed her guns, stood in the booth next to Emma. She and Clint were fussing, arguing about arrows, but Natasha just emptied her guns, hitting target again and again and again.

Clint noticed Natasha was a little more tense than usual, and when her gun went off in rapid fire, he knew for certain that she was tense.

Emma was practicing aiming with the gun again, and he crossed over to Natasha's booth, making sure to make some noise so that she could stop him if she wanted too. But she didn't, she dropped the guns and turned to him.

"Not a good idea letting her shoot," she remarked. He shrugged.

"She's doing fine. She's actually not that bad, practically a natural. Like you."

"Thanks Clint," Natasha drawled, patted his shoulder as she walked by him. "Don't let her shoot herself in the foot or something." She then walked out of the training room, and Clint smiled before turning back to Emma, who was smiling up at him.

"You like her."

"Of course I like her, she's my partner, and best friend," he said. "Alright, first you-"

"I know how to shoot, Clint," Emma said with an eyeroll as she pulled back the string on the bow, holding her arms with pretty precise standards.

"Great. Make sure that smart mouth pays off and shoot," he said. Emma smirked, and let the arrow fly, letting it hit it's target with a thump.

"You like her," she then repeated, as Clint approached the target. She had scored a ten. Hm. Not so shit aim after all. "Like-like her."

"What are you, twelve?" he said, grinning before turning back, seeing one of Emma's eyebrows rise.

"Yeah. Why?" she said, resting her weight on her one leg and squinting at him. "You do like her!"

"Shut up," Clint said, pulling the arrow out. Emma squealed.

"Oh, my god, I have hit the jackpot," she sighed happily. "Dude, she likes you too."

"Yeah, she's my goddamned partner, she better like me," Clint snorted, and Emma rolled her eyes.

"No, you oaf, I'm pretty sure she like-likes you too. The lingering touches, the fact that you _ge_ t to touch her, the laughing... It's like a dramatic love story. Everybody sees it, but it turns into a goddamned tragedy, because you look at her and you see the sun, and she looks at you and sees the stars and the moon, but you both stop looking because you think the other is just staring at the ground." Emma sighed dramatically. "I swear to Thor, the Avengers are the weirdest group of people I have ever met, and I've lived in the same trailer as Irma, the not-so-much-lady, bearded lady for three and a half years."

Something in Clint clicked, because he remembers a very big and scary Irma the bearded lady from the circus he and Barney lived with, and that makes him shiver. He picked up his own bow.

"How did you learn to shoot with a bow?" he asked, trying to get away from this subject. Luckily, Emma was pretty easily distracted, and she smiled at him.

"Charlie had a bow too," she said softly, raising the bow and pulling an arrow from her quiver.

"Right. The mysterious Charlie."

"Yeah. He taught me a lot of stuff," she said, that same tone of voice that was joking but laced with seriousness that made Clint's skin crawl. Whoosh, her arrow flew.

"Oh yeah? He taught you how to fight?" he asked, grabbing an arrow from the quiver over her back and nocking it.

"Mhm. And throw knifes. I never really got the hang of that though."

"Tasha is really good at it, she could probably teach you," Clint said, letting the nickname roll off his tongue with normal ease. He really should have thought about it. He was surprised when Emma firmly placed her bow on the table in front of her.

"There. That too. Nicknames. You know, Tony called her Nattie-Nat, and she almost crushed his finger, like yesterday. Does she ever do that to you? No. She lets you call her Nat, and Tasha, and Tash, and you could probably get away with 'Nattie-Nat' too! She like-likes you." Clint put his bow down next to Emma's.

"I don't 'like-like' her."

"Then you love her." Clint was shell shocked, as he stood there, staring down at this little girl who looked so much like Natasha in that exact moment, powerful, calm, and collected. And something in him, just... Cracked.

"Whoa. That is a harsh accusation you're throwing at me, kid," Clint said, taking a small step back with his hands in the air.

"How is it an accusation?" she asked, her mouth twisted to one side in a scowl. Holy shit, she was really like a mini Natasha when she did that.

"I-I don't do the whole relationship thing. I love her as a partner, and a friend, in fact, she is my best friend, and I would never fuck that up by going all goopy on her," he said. Emma smiled.

"Okay. How about this: I will become your wingperson and see if she likes your sorry ass, and in return, you will make a move on her," she suggested. Clint's eyes narrowed.

"That's... I'm going to start to point out the many faults in that plan, but first: Wingperson?" he asked, smiling. Emma shrugged.

"I don't like 'wingman', because one, I am not a man, and two, I don't like defining things by gender, so wingperson it is."

"Oh, my god, that is the cutest thing," Clint whispered, and Emma punched him in the ribs, not trying to hurt him. He laughed. "I don't love her like that, seriously Em."

"You do, come on, admit it. I've seen those longing looks, the soft smiles," she said, blinking up at him with fluttery eyelashes, trying to look all innocent. That little devilish-

"You've already started this plan of your's haven't you?"

"Maaaybe."

"Emma!"

"What? You both so very obviously like each other, it hurts my tiny soul. Very very tiny soul. The little part of it I have left. Come on. Wingperson?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as Emma stretched out a hand to him, urging him to take it.

He did.

"If you tell anybody, I will have to destroy your stash of jolly ranchers." Emma gasped.

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

\---

Emma popped the vent in the kitchen and dropped down onto the kitchen island, only to find Tony sitting there on his phone, with Steve making some lunch. He and Thor almost tied on the eating thing.

"Oh. Whoops," Emma said, putting the vent back in place like Clint taught her. Tony squinted at her.

"You are their kid. There is no way that you are not their child," he remarked as Emma crawled off the counter on her  
way to the fridge.

"I am not their child!" Emma said, and opened the fridge, only to find a carton of apple juice. Yum. "You tested me, didn't you?"

"There has to be some explanation to this," Tony muttered, and Steve just smiled kindly at her.

"Do you want some spaghetti, Emma?" Steve asked. Emma shrugged.

"Sure," she said, sat down next to Tony.

"Okay, clearance codes have been added, you may leave the tower as you please, and enter it," Tony said, setting down his phone. "Any electronics that aren't Stark productions are unacceptable. A Starkphone and a Starktablet is on it's way. The lethal widow told me that you've decorated your room. Great. Anything you need, ask Jarvis and he can get it for you."

"Wow, still fangirling so much," she breathed, and Tony couldn't help the smile on his lips. Steve piled up enough spaghetti on two plates to end starvation, and placed them in front of the two. "So, what's happened in the past months? I've been in a cellar."

Natasha had alerted them of how she came to be in the tower, and Steve looked concerned for a second.

"Not much, a couple of ridiculous world trends that died already," Tony said, pulling up a hologram of an engine, turning it around with his hands and poking at it. "Why isn't this working?" he muttered to himself as Emma stuffed her face with the spaghetti. Pasta was one of her favorite things.

"That thing," Emma said, her voice muffled with food as she pointed to a small small part in the corner of the engine. Steve didn't see it's significance."It's stopping that from moving to it's full extent, and that's why it's not working." Tony scoffed.

"If it moves to it's full extent, the whole thing will blow up," he said, giving her that degrading child look. Emma shook her head, and pointed to the part again.

"Turn it around and it will latch on to that thing, and then-"

"No no no, that wouldn't work," Tony said, bringing the hologram closer to her so that she could get a better look at it, and see that he was right.

"Yeah it would, just let me finish," Emma said, and then she began explaining to Tony, who was suddenly listening with rapt attention. Steve didn't get a thing of what they were saying, so he just began eating too, and pretty soon, neither of the others were eating, Emma and Tony were adjusting things and talking.

"That can't work!" Tony complained.

"It will," Emma assured him. "Jarvis, probability scan?"

"Miss Emma's prototype could in fact work," Jarvis admitted, and Emma let out a victorious 'whoo'. Tony just gaped at her in confusion and awe.

"I-We have to get you into my workshop," Tony decided, and Emma shrugged.

"I don't have anything else to do," she said, and hopped off her chair. Tony gave Steve a kiss.

"Don't wait up!" he called as they made their way down to the workshop. Steve just sighed. Yup. That was Tony, alright.

As the glass doors slid open, Dummy whirred out from behind Tony's desk.

"Hey Dummy," Tony said, and Emma squealed.

"Dummy? Dummy is real?" she asked, and he whirred again, looking her over.

"Totally real. Dummy, this is Emma," he explained, and Emma's look grazed the claw.

"Awesome. Like, I-am-going-to-faint-awesome."

"You should see the rest of it," Tony sighed happily. "Jarvis, bring up the notes from last time I was here?" The air was lit up with holograms of a... Hm. Tony didn't notice, he thanked Dummy for a smoothie, and Emma bit her lip.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to ask Steve to marry you?" she asked softly. Tony spun around quickly saw the screens.

"Oh no. I-you were not supposed to see that! Jarvis," Tony snapped, and the screens disappeared again.

"I am sorry, Sir, you requested the notes from last time," Jarvis said, obviously amused.

"It's cute," Emma spoke up. "Metal from the arc reactor? Adorable. Like you're giving him a piece of your heart."

"Don't tell anybody," Tony said, slipping on his PR smile. It was too different from his usual smile, the one he wore with the other Avengers, and Emma frowned.

"Don't shut down on me, Stark, that's not fair! I just want you to know, that you have my full support in wooing his spangled ass into marriage," she said, grinning. "Now, for that engine..."

\---


	6. Chocolate and Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just go with it.

 

Being a sciencebro, as Tony so hilariously called it, meant that Bruce had access to Tony's lab, and as he walked in through the glass doors, he almost dropped the Starktab in his hands. Emma was stuck to the roof, laughing like a madman, and Tony was in his Iron Man suit, but no helmet, flying after her as she ran around in the ceiling, dashing around like an upside-down cat.

"Stay still!" Tony said, as Emma made a jump that from the ceiling onto Tony, almost making him crash. "Fuck, you shouldn't be that heavy!"

"I'm not heavy?" Emma said, confused. She had her hands attached to Tony's chest, and now Bruce could tell she was wearing gloves of some sort.

"Then you have a hell of a pounce," Tony decided. Bruce cleared his throat, and they both looked at him, surprised at the entrance.

"Tony. Why are you up in the air?" asked Bruce, smiling slightly.

"Oh. Emma was helping me test these new gloves my brilliant mind has conjured. They're magnetic. Emma, show him," Tony said. Emma gave him a strange look.

"Dude, they're the only reason I'm still _on_ you. Hold me, and I will," she said. Tony repositioned her to his hip with only a second of hesitation, and she lifted her hands to show Bruce, who nodded.

"Magnetic, huh? Did you just make them for fun, or..."

"Yeah, actually just for fun. I was going to ask Natasha to try them, but here's her tiny version, and a very smart and curious tiny version, testing them instead."

"Thank you, thank you," Emma said theatrically, bowing. "Please put me down."

"Right." Tony landed and placed her on the ground.

"You got matching feet for these?" she asked whilst waggling her fingers, and Tony shook his head.

"Sorry. I'm working on it," he said as the suit retracted, before walking over to his workbench, fiddling with some notes. "On a scale from 'meh' to 'aaah', what would you say your experience was?"

"A 'whoa'," Emma said, flexed her fingers again. "They were good, but what if you want to get up a building that isn't magnetic? Or made of metal? Seems a bit risky."

"It's for fun, don't take the fun out of it," Tony argued, and Emma smiled. "What did you want help with, Brucie-bear?"

Emma slipped the gloves off, wandering around the workshop again. Bruce shook his head, dislodged the initial shock and confusion.

"Yes, uh, this..." He reached the Starktab out to Tony, who took it, began muttering.

"Tony?" Emma called suddenly. He looked up.

"Yeah?"

"I'm leaving for now. You don't have watches in here, and it's already eleven P.M. I should get to bed," she said, waving. Tony waved back, and she smiled before basically skipping out of the workshop.

"Ah. Good kid. Like her," he muttered, before turning back to Bruce's tablet.

\---

She tried sleeping on her own floor this time. It didn't work.

"Jarvis? Who else is up?" Emma asked quietly.

"Concerning the Avengers?"

"Anybody, really," she shrugged, sat up.

"Sergeant Barnes is in the kitchen. Everybody else is asleep. Even Sir passed out in his workshop about half an hour ago. Captain Rogers retrieved him."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Barnes? James 'Bucky' Barnes?"

"I believe that is what Captain Rogers calls him, yes," Jarvis said.

"What? I thought he was like, lost in the arctic with no memories?" she said, standing up with her blanket around her shoulders like a cape. Hm. Maybe she could borrow Thor's cape sometime?

"No, miss, he lives in the tower. He does visit the kitchen during the nights, and keeps to himself otherwise. The Captain is keen on getting his memories back. He remembers a few things," Jarvis offered as she started walking to the elevators. If Bucky didn't like being out with the other Avengers, he would probably leave when she entered the room. But she would see him. And it would be awesome.

"Thank you Jarvis," Emma said. "Common floor, please."

"Yes, miss." The elevator slid down, and she curled the blanket tighter around herself. Maybe she should get a robe? Like a big, red one. That dragged behind her. Because she would feel very devious in that. The elevator bell dinged, and she stepped out into the dark room. Bucky probably didn't know how to turn the lights on without a button.

"Is anybody there?" she asked into the air. She saw a movement in the dark, and squinted. "Jarvis, lights please. Dim." The lights came on, and she saw James sitting by the kitchen island, in a dark t-shirt and pyjama pants that clearly wasn't really his. Getting him to go outside was probably hard, even harder to get him to buy clothes. He looked at her without recognition in cold, grey eyes, and she gasped.

"Wow. I'm fangirling. So much. If I faint, you probably won't catch me though, so I'll try to keep my shit together," she blabbered. He was still staring at her. Well, he hadn't punched her yet. Or left. She took that as a sign to continue her blabbering. "I'm Emma. And no, I am not Natasha and Clint's kid. I do look like it, but I am not. Of course, Tony didn't believe me, and tests were made. But I'm not their kid." She made her way to the cabinets, and he was still watching her. "I haven't seen you around the tower. Not even for food. You must be starving. Though, I'd advice you to not touch the Lucky Charms. It starts war." Something flashed over his face, and she frowned. It looked like fear. "Oh... Sorry. Can't keep my mouth shut. I should probably learn how to, but Tony said that it's refreshing, and Natasha keeps on smiling, and from what I have heard, that really doesn't happen often. So I'm not going to stop, because I like my voice." He wasn't smiling, but he didn't look as hostile anymore. His eyes weren't daggers anymore, they were needles now. I'm not a threat, she thought. Not right now anyways.

"So, and I know this might sound creepy, but I severely wonder how Steve looked, pre-serum I mean. Was he cute? How tiny was he? Like, my height, or... Like, Natasha?" Bucky was still quiet."Wow. Not very talkative, huh? Too bad. I bet you're really nice. You look like a hugger. Maybe you do hug? That would be cool. If you'd hug me. I'm hungry. Do you want hot chocolate?" He tilted his head a little. Then he nodded.

Emma grinned, and felt very pleased with her work. "Sweet. I like hot chocolate, but I can't handle cotton candy. I used to live with a circus, and the little kids always threw up after eating too much of it. I had to clean up a lot of the benches. It wasn't fun, and smelled like... Well, puke." While she talked, she pulled out two mugs, and began making hot chocolate. "I don't like marshmallows either. Depending on what state it's in. Like, smores? Yes please. Lucky charms? Hell yes. But those powdery things? Nah. I'm feeling whipped cream. Do you want whipped cream on yours?"

He didn't move.

"Hang on a second. You can try it." She pulled the whipped cream out of the fridge, and a spoon. She squirted a copious amount on the spoon, and held it out to him. When Bucky moved, it was slowly, carefully, as if he didn't want to break her by accidentally touching her. He plunged the spoon into his mouth. His eyes widened a little.

"Good? Want it on your hot chocolate?" He gave her a slight nod, and she grinned. "Awesome." She pulled the two mugs out of the microwave, and sprayed tons of whipped cream onto hers. She saw Bucky's lips twist a little, to what looked like a small smile, when she sprayed some into his cup, and nudged it his way.

He took it.

"I love your arm," Emma blurted out before she could stop herself. She took a sip of her chocolate, and he did the same. "It's really shiny. It looks like a disco ball. Kinda. It's pretty." He swallowed down his chocolate, and wrinkled his eyebrows.

"Pretty?" His voice was gruff from lack of use, but this small kid just didn't stop talking. And his arm, being pretty? What?

Emma's jaw dropped a little. He talked!

"Yeah. It's pretty. You should paint it pink. Or green. Oh, you could arm wrestle with Bruce, and it would be two greens clashing," she grinned. "You should let me put glitter on it. Oh, and stickers. I think Tony has cat stickers in his junk box. Or you could make a sock for it? Like one of those fake tattoo sleeves with the bracelets." Now he just looked downright confused. "Whatever. You should decorate it though. Has Tony touched it yet? I bet he would die to look at such nice tech. Or bad. It's not like they were nice to you." She frowned. "Sorry. I did it again."

They sipped their drinks in silence for a while. It was probably the longest Emma had been quiet around him. She couldn't contain herself.

"So, do you live really high up, or really far down?" she asked. "I live two floors up. With Clint and Natasha. They're really nice. I like them. Tony and Steve live above us, and Bruce has his lab a floor above them. Then Thor, he has a fucking _balcony_. Not fair. I want a balcony. I don't like being locked up, I like watching the stars. And then, there's like a hundred other levels that I haven't been on. Oh! And the floor below this is Tony's workshop. I was walking on his ceiling earlier. Right, which way do you live? Up or down?"

He pondered telling her for a few seconds.

"Up." Bucky took another sip of his drink.

"You don't like being far down?" He shrugged. "I don't either. It makes me feel trapped. I can't handle that. Makes things break. But I like it here, even though I can't sleep. If I could sleep, I would never even know that you were here. Maybe you'd prefer that." Suddenly, she looked a little nervous. "I could... Just not come here in the night. If you don't want me to."

"No. It's okay. You can stay," he said. At that, she lit up like the sun.

"Really!? Uh, I mean, okay," she said flippantly. She brushed her hair out of her face. "Why don't you eat breakfast with us?"

"I don't."

"I know. I was wondering why."

"Sn't matter."

"Does, too!" Emma smirked at him. "If you would like to, like once, I might be able to get Clint to offer some of the Lucky Charms. Of course, you would have to earn them. We need to go on regular cereal raids. Tony has dubbed us thieves." Bucky didn't answer her, but she was still proud of herself. And very tired.

"Hey, I'm sure you'll be totally fine without a few hours of sleep, but I will be wrecked. Totally a zombie. So I'm going to dash back upstairs. I got to hear my own voice, that was pretty cool, and that arm is so cool. I wanna pour glitter on it. Clint would help. Good night." Emma basically skipped over to the elevators, which opened right away. "Agents' floor?" she said thoughtfully as the doors closed.

\---


	7. Monsters and Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sure. Just fluff and fillers. It's not really that much, I just wanted to get something up today, as if I've accomplished something.  
> Thanks for all the Kudos and Comments! Make my day!  
> Enjoy.

 

Clint woke up from Natasha saying his name sharply, and he was breathing hard and sweating as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Slowly, he sat up, and looked over at Natasha.

"You were crying out in your sleep," Natasha said quietly. He took a deep breath, and rubbed his forehead. Great, headache. Again.

"Oh," he muttered as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sighing. Natasha's hand carefully went to his back, began rubbing in slow circles. She didn't pressure him into telling, she never did, as he never did to her. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. Instead, he just sat there, silent.

"What time is it?" he asked quietly when he didn't feel his heart beating so hard in his chest it felt like a sledgehammer against his ribcage.

"2 am," she mumbled softly, her fingers tracing patterns into his strong back. Clint nodded, and got an idea, because his head was still swimming with nightmares and monsters and _wow_ , he hadn't thought about that almost-suicide mission in ages.

"Will you stay?"

He uttered the words without thinking, and Natasha looked a little confused, but then understanding flashed over her darkened features. She nodded a little, barely noticeable, and then he was crawling back into the bed. Nat crawled after him, but they left a noticeable gap inbetween them. Because Natasha didn't know how far her self-restraint went, and Clint knew that he didn't want his neck snapped.

So they curled up, and although Clint couldn't sleep, he felt safer with Natasha in the same room. She always needed to be closest to the door, and furthest away from the heater, all curled up in a fetal position with the blankets tugged up to her chin to keep the cool air out. She looked so innocent...

Natasha was almost always cold. Cold hands, cold feet, and therefore, she hated the cold. Clint was like a furnace, always whining about being warm and sleeping without shirts and pants. So him next to her in the bed was nice. He kept the heat up.

"Hey, Tash?" Clint mumbled into the darkness. Natasha shifted next to him.

"Mhm?"

"Why does Emma look like us?"

"I don't know," she murmured into her pillow. "I'm not a scientist."

"Yeah, but still? It's almost weird."

"Clint, I can guarantee you she isn't ours. One, because we have never had sex, and two..." She went silent. He turned his head to look at her face in the darkness. Natasha looked a little conflicted. Then the Widow kicked in, and her face went blank. "I can't have children." He took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I know." She stared at him in shock, so Clint took a deep breath. "Well... I was supposed to kill you, you know. I did my research. And no, it's not in your file. I just... I've kinda guessed it, you know? We've been partners for a really long time, Tash, and not once have I ever heard of you talking about your period, or IUD check ups, or anything... And the Red Room sterilised their girls. Because it was a risk they were not willing to take." Natasha's breaths couldn't be heard anymore.

"Why haven't you commented on it?" Nat asked suddenly, quietly. He shrugged into the darkness.

"It wasn't my thing to talk about," he said simply. He felt Natasha's fingers brush against his shoulder.

"Thank you."

"For what?" She was silent for so long, Clint almost thought she had fallen asleep, until she finally whispered into the darkness silently:

"For everything."

\---

When Clint found Emma lying on her own floor this time, he just smiled. She was sleeping with her eyes closed, her hand clutching a knife that he had no clue how she got a hold of, and she looked so peaceful.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open, and he smiled at her.

"Morning," he said. She blinked, rubbed her eyes with the knife still in a tight grasp.

"What the fuck..." Emma muttered as she stretched, and felt her shoulders pop. "Morning."

"Is the floor comfy?" Clint asked, still smiling. He was wearing civilians, and Emma wondered what time it was.

"Mhm. Comfy for me," she muttered. "I want coffee."

"I think Tony said that, like three minutes ago. He's brewing coffee probably," he offered. Emma got off the floor, and placed the knife on her nightstand.

"I don't even like coffee, I just hate waking up," she mumbled, rubbed her eyes. "Jarvis, how long was I out?"

"Six and a half hours, miss," Jarvis said, lighting the lamp dimly. Emma grumbled and pushed past Clint, with her blanket over her shoulders.

This was going to be a long day.

\---

"And Hel? Is she real?" Emma nearly squealed. Thor nodded solemnly.

"Aye. She lives in Hel, and her one half is a beautiful blue, and the other is one of rotting flesh," he said. Emma was nearly bouncing in her chair.

"And-and Vale?"

"Yes. Why do you possess such knowledge about Asgardians?" Thor asked curiously. Emma couldn't stop grinning.

"Uh, right, I love mythology. And I like to memorize things. So, gods became a thing for a while, I lived in this one really strict catholic home, and I challenged their beliefs by saying that 'how about Odin?'. Needless to say, I didn't get to stay that long."

"Why so, Maiden Emma?" Thor asked, chewing on a Poptart. The guy really couldn't keep his hands away from them.

"Well... They didn't like me," she said slowly. Thor looked genuinely surprised.

"What? Preposterous, we gladly enjoy thy company!" he beamed. Emma swallowed and looked down on her food.

"Yeah, but you don't know yet," she muttered under her breath, and got up to put the plates in the dishwasher. The elevator dinged, and Steve got out, glowing and with a light sheen of sweat on his skin as he walked straight to the fridge for a water bottle.

"Hey Emma, Thor," he said, offered a smile. Emma tilted her head.

"Steve, do you know where Tony keeps his stickers? And glitter?" she asked. Steve looked stunned.

"I don't think he owns stickers... Or glitter... But Bruce does. In his lab. I have no clue why. May I ask why you need that?" He started basically inhaling the waterbottles contents, and Emma just shrugged.

"For future references," she said, smiling. Steve nodded.

"Where's Tony?" he asked.

"Workshop, probably. Where else?"

"I don't know. He promised me he would try to stay out of it for a little while," Steve sighed. "Jarvis? Where's Tony?"

"Sir is currently with Colonel Rhodes in his workshop, working on the War Machine armor," Jarvis stated.

"Rhodey's here?" Steve smiled. "Great. Full house."

"Full tower, more like it," Emma corrected, and Steve just gave her a strange kind of soft smile.

"I'm taking a shower. Don't break anything," he said as he started going to the elevators again.

"Not promising anything!" Emma called back. Thor chuckled.

It was a brilliant day.

After loitering with Thor for almost an hour, Emma was curious. So she snuck down to the workshop. Well, snuck and snuck, she took the elevator and told Jarvis where she wanted to go, so it wasn't very sneaky.

The glass doors opened before she could even knock.

And there was Tony, wild hair, eyes calculating as he swept around the silvery armor, muttering to himself as he worked. He had the kind of concentrated look on that told you to not get in his way. Emma was happy to comply.

On the floor, next to the couch, she found a man sleeping, in a nest of pillows. He looked very comfortable, but very tired, with bags under his eyes as he snored lightly. Emma had to giggle.

"So this is Rhodey? Cool," she said, tip-toeing over him to the couch. She laid down. "Jarvis, can I have something to pull apart, please?"

A holographic engine appeared, and she hummed happily, getting to work.

 

It took two hours for Tony to understand that she was in there. She didn't even make a sound, he just suddenly looked up, as if he was seeing her for the first time. 

"Emma! When did you get in here?" he asked, shocked.

"Like, two hours ago, dude. You need to pay more attention," she said, shaking her head at him. She had taken apart the engine twice, and now she was trying to build her own.

"What... What are you doing?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm being the engine that could. How about you?" He shook his head a little, not tired enough to not crack a smile.

"I'm fixing shit that Rhodey fucked up," he shrugged. Rhodey grumbled something from the floor. "Right, Emma, this is Rhodey, he's just really tired. Apparently it takes time and effort to blast over the Atlantic."

"It motherfucking does," Emma could hear Rhodey mumble into the pillows, snuggling in closer.

"Sure, champ," Tony said, shaking his head gently. "So, did Capsicle send you down? Because he knows I'm a big, boy and I can take ca- You know what I can't even say that with a straight face, so I'm going to stop right there." He stretched and hummed.

"What about the ring? How's that going?" Tony's movements froze.

"Yeah... I'm..."

"What ring?" Rhodey suddenly sat up, eyes wide open. "Tones..."

"Fine," Tony groaned loudly. "I'm asking Steve to marry me. And you know how hard that is for me, but sure, pile on the shit about commitment issues, and please, talk me out of it." Rhodey just stared at him for a while. Tony stared back.

"I think it's a great idea," he said softly, and Emma could see Tony's tense shoulders relax just a little at the thought of his friend approving. "He's good for you. I don't think I've seen you pick up a real drink since he came around."

"Yeah, well, he can be very persuasive," Tony grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Ew, minors in the room," Emma grimaced without looking up from her screen.

"Like you care," Tony said back, and she clicked her tongue to her teeth.

"About the ring? Yes. Because it is very very romantic," she said softly.

"What about the ring?" Rhodey asked suspiciously. Tony lit up, and then he started to explain the dynamics of the ring, how Tony made it.

Rhodey had never seen Tony so happy.

\---


	8. Promises and Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler. Fluff. Uh, just read it.

 

It was the Avengers movie night, a brilliant occasion.

Clint was sprawled on the large love seat, Natasha sitting on the floor in front of him and leaning on it, looking gracious as ever. Steve and Tony were entangled on one half of the couch, Thor took up the other half, and Bruce was sitting in his own comfortable armchair. Emma took the floor, making herself a snuggly nest of pillows, and Rhodey was on the floor next to her. Clint was smiling at her softly, a smile that Tony didn't miss, even though he was basically eating Steve's face.

"She's definitely your kid," Tony announced, and Natasha and Clint both shot him a tired look. Emma didn't even pay attention, they were watching Lord Of The Rings, and both she and Thor were wonderstruck.

"Shut up Stark," Natasha murmured. Emma grabbed another handful of popcorn, and shoved it down her throat.

"This movie is confusing and I love it," Emma said from the floor. She threw a popcorn at Clint, who caught it and ate it.

Steve pulled away from Tony's neck, kissing his boyfriend, and Tony wanted to get down on his knee right there and now. But he had to wait. He had to wait just a little.

Or maybe he didn't. There's no time like the present, right?

So he got his shit together, and disentangled himself from Steve, dropping down from the couch. Steve gave him a curious expression, and Emma rolled over on her stomach, looking at Tony. He took a deep breath and went down on his knee. Steve's eyes went wide.

"I was going to do this in a more, ya know, Stark way. With fireworks. A party maybe. But, you just... You just look so fantastic like this, all relaxed. I really feel like a sap saying this, but you've made my life so much better. You've said that I should drop the 'playboy' from my speech. Maybe you could help me do that. So...Steven Grant Rogers, and yes, it's totally legal by the way, would you marry me?" Tony asked, his voice soft as he pulled out the box.

Natasha gasped, Clint's eyeballs were about to pop out of his head, Bruce jaw was slack, and Thor looked confused, but Tony's favorite reaction, was Steve's. Of course. Steve's baby blue eyes were huge with emotion and tears, as his lips quirked into a smile, becoming a grin, and he clasped a hand over his mouth as Tony opened the tiny velvet box, revealing the ring inside. Steve took a deep breath.

"Yes, yes, Tony, a hundred times yes!" he exclaimed, and Tony could feel the pressure around his lungs evaporate as he slipped the ring onto Steve's finger. The super solider, his super solider, tackled him onto the floor in a tumble of kisses and whispered 'I love you's.

The Avengers cheered, and smiled and grinned, and Tony's face was hurting because he just couldn't stop smiling, and Steve kissed him to keep his mouth busy. Soon the newly-engaged couple had to get away from the others, from the congratulating and just have each other for themselves.

The others were pleased to have them gone, or they may have ripped their clothes off on the floor.

"I owe you three-hundred bucks," Clint stated suddenly, and Natasha smiled up at him.

"I'm ready for it whenever," she said.

"Whoa! That's a lot of fucking money, dude, do you always put your stakes that high?" Emma asked incredulously, throwing another popcorn at Clint.

"Nah, Nat thought they were getting engaged in 'around two months', as she said, I said 'no fucking way, look at Stark', and, well, I may have been betting larger sums than usual," he shrugged.

"Hey, I was in on that pool, I owe Natasha fifty bucks, and Rhodey owes her a hundred," Bruce added. Natasha nodded.

"Looks like Nat's becoming richer than Stark because of Stark," Clint said, and Natasha rolled her eyes. Rhodey laughed.

"So, when are you two tying the knot?" he asked, smiling up at them. Clint tilted his head, and Emma may or may not have paid Rhodey for this, but the look of pure fear that flashed across Natasha face for a second was worth it: Emma had found a thread to pull. Natasha's face went blank again.

"We're not even together," she said, her voice short and clipped as she stared him down, daring him to say anything else. Rhodey swallowed, laughed awkwardly.

"Oh. Sorry. Looked like you guys- Nevermind," he muttered and looked up at the screen again. Emma rolled over on her stomach, next to Rhodey.

"Thanks," she whispered, and he smiled at her. She liked Rhodey. Tony definitely did, and he was a good guy. Emma didn't dislike him yet, and to think that she was still so outgoing when people weren't being dicks to her, or trying to kill her, or wipe her mind blank.

Who knew?

She certainly didn't.

\---

The next night she visited Bucky again. He didn't say much, but she couldn't stop blabbering, and he didn't protest. He liked her talk. He could really tell that she hadn't got a lot of attention in her life, because when she got some attention, she sucked it out to the last drop.

The nightly visits to the kitchen kept up, and Emma found Bucky warming up, ever so slightly to her presence. Every day, night, whatever, she said he should eat breakfast with them. He never promised he would, but he never said he wouldn't. Emma never told anyone about their talks, because it was kind of private. But Bucky told her a little about Steve, and how he tried to get him outside. Bucky didn't want to.

During the days, since it was still summer, Emma hung around the tower or with the other Avengers. Thor came and went to Asgard and New Mexico, for some reason. There was peace. Or, well, until Rhodey had to leave with War Machine, and Tony was pouting like hell at seeing his best friend leave.

"Oh, come on Tony, I'll be back for the wedding," Rhodey grinned, and received a hug before he was flying off with the armor. Steve hugged Tony from behind, and Emma stood next to them, watched him go.

"Soon he'll be off to college, and you two old saps with be retired," she said, smiling up at them. Tony laughed, and Steve smirked.

"This old man should be retired already," Tony said, jabbing his elbow back into Steve's ribs gently. Steve smiled in Tony's short brown hair, nuzzling into it like it was the safest place in the world.

Emma had seen couples before, but none quite like Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. They were basically complete opposites, but they fit so good together, like water in a pool.

"Alright, Tony, work-out time," Steve said, tapped his fiancé's shoulder. Tony groaned.

"Why, Steve?" he whined, but Steve just smiled, shook his head.

"No whining. Get downstairs." Tony grumbled, but obliged, started walking.

"Uh, Steve?" Emma said. The blonde solider looked at her, all relaxed and happy, his blue eyes light and bright.

"Yes, Emma?"

"Can I watch you guys fight? I think I'm a little out of shape myself," she admitted. Steve thought for a second, usually he wouldn't want a small girl like her to be encouraged to fight like they did, but Emma was strangely... Wise for such a small girl. So he just nodded.

"Sure. Come on."

\---

Watching Steve and Tony fight was _hilarious_. Tony could get the advantage by distracting Steve, who took this as childs play. But it ached inside her to not be able to fight herself, to not kick, and punch, and snap. When Steve pinned Tony to the mat for the ninth time, Emma couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Steve? Can I fight you?" Steve looked up, surprised.

"Well..." he began, looking uncertain.

"Yes, yes you can," Tony said, using Steve's sudden distraction to push the super solider over on his back and popping off him. Steve smiled and stood up.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said gingerly. Emma laughed.

"Please, do. Try to. With all your might," she said as Tony almost skipped off the mat. Emma smiled at Steve's confused expression. "No sarcasm. Really. Try to hit me with all you've got." His eyes narrowed as she stepped onto the mat.

"I'm not sure I will," he said slowly. She shrugged, and assumed a fighting stance, walking in circles at the same time as Steve.

Emma pounced first, throwing the first punch, which Steve blocked easily. He tried to grab a hold of her arm and throw her off, but her slim wrist slipped out of his grip, and he received a square punch in the jaw, which almost toppled him. He stared at her with pure shock in his blue eyes as he rubbed his jaw. Emma's grin was hard to miss.

"That was really hard!" Steve exclaimed. Emma shrugged.

"I told you to hit me, but you didn't!" she exclaimed back. This time Steve's fist flew, and Emma dodged it, but her shoulder got brushed by his knuckles. She didn't even flinch, her grin fading into determination as punches flew. Suddenly, she had a grip around Steve's neck with him on the mats, panting as she raised her fist to knock him out.

"I give," he gasped at the tight pressure on his throat. Emma jumped up, cheeks red with happiness.

"Again, Captain?"

\---

 


	9. Civil Wars and Star Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know why I try to write summaries.

 

When Emma headed for the showers, her body was screaming in pain that would be gone in the morning. She hated that about herself, a good work out only ever sated her for so long. Wincing at the bruise by her hip, where Steve had pinned her down, she stepped into the showers, giving herself a real scrub down.She felt squeaky clean when she headed for bed that night, and after three weeks in Avengers tower, she had started to not sleep, which made her look like a zombie, except for that one time when she had passed out in the kitchen and had woken up by Clint, with a blanket over her that she totally knew Bucky had left over her.

But now she was too tired to go down to Bucky, her body ached, and she threw herself onto her bed, quickly falling asleep.

\--- 

When she woke up, she was surprised that it was by the touch of Natasha's hand in her hair. It was a soft touch, one that she knew was hard for the other woman to muster. But it was very nice. Not having many women in her life, since her lesbian parents, it was nice to have Natasha stroke her hair gently. Of course, she got skittish, and stirred, and Natasha's hand disappeared quickly, like it had never been there in the first place.

"Good morning," Natasha's voice filled her ears. She still wasn't completely over her fangirl faze, but she was getting out of it. They were basically normal human beings, that....Uh... No, nevermind. That wasn't the way to describe them. At all. But they usually managed normal interactions, and Emma craved just that.

"Mhm, had it been a good morning, I would still be asleep," she muttered, but the bed felt like it was going to choke her, so she rolled off it, onto the floor, barely catching herself. Her muscles weren't sore, _surprise surprise_ , and she stood up, sleepy.

"Hey, Emma," Natasha said softly.

"What?" Emma asked distractedly, cracking her neck and stretching to hear her shoulder pop.

"Steve told me that you fight like it's your last day on earth," she said, standing up as Emma found Thor's cape-she had asked him to try it, and apparently, he had magical spares, so she got to keep it. It pooled around her feet, and she felt like a princess in it.

"Yeah, because I usually think it will be when I fight," she shrugged.

"You might want to put on pants, Coulson's coming over," Natasha pointed out. Emma groaned, and let the cape drop again, pulling out a soft grey pair of sweatpants.

"Fuck, what time is it?"

"Nine AM. Oh, and Thor and Jane are coming in later today. With Darcy. They're friends of ours," she explained. Emma shrugged.

"Okay. Sure. Is Steve making pancakes?" she asked as Natasha joined her on her way to the elevator.

"Common floor, Jarvis," Natasha said to the elevator. "And I'm not sure actually. Stark's probably busy talking to Phil, so he and Steve won't be tonguing around. Hopefully. Are you hungry?"

"Very very hungry," Emma decided.

The elevatorbells dinged, and the doors slid open, and Emma remembered why she so obviously loved living with the Avengers.

They were like children in adult meat suits.

Steve was too sickly as a child to play around too much, Tony was always being pressured by his father to the point of overworking himself when he was little, and Clint had lived with the circus.

So when they came in to find flour everywhere, and sugar, and eggs everywhere, she shouldn't have been surprised. Steve had egg smeared into his hair, and flour, making him pale as a ghost, all over himself. Tony's black Black Sabbath shirt was almost grey, and he had 'Steve' scribbled over his forehead in an egg and sugar mix. And Clint, oh Clint, he had three eggs splattered on his shirt, and flour in his hair, making it paler than usual. As soon as they all three looked up, Natasha growled.

"I was gone for three minutes. _Three minutes_. Where's Coulson?" she snapped. Steve had the decency to look a little ashamed, but Tony just laughed as Clint frowned, and ran a hand through his hair, sneezing at the flour falling down onto his nose.

"More important question, did you actually make waffles or just one gigantic cake?" Emma asked. Steve chuckled and held a plate of pancakes up. Emma hummed happily and made grabby hands.

"Relax, Nattie, I've got the bots' on it," Tony said, waving her death glare off, even though he kind of hid behind Steve.

"I love what you've done with the place," Emma said sarcastically as she brushed the flour, wow, they had a lot of flour, off a chair and sat down, digging into the pancakes. Pretty soon, the kitchen was clean, and Steve was wiping off Tony's face, laughing and kissing it as he went. Then the elevatorbell dinged.

And Bucky came barging in.

Steve's jaw nearly dropped, and he stared in disbelief as Bucky's fist clenched, his eyes locked on Emma, who looked up.

"Oh. Hi Bucky," she said, giving him a warm smile. He swallowed, took a slightly shaky breath. Obviously, he didn't like the other Avengers around as much he liked her.

"Where were you?" The words were short, and sharp, and maybe slightly hurt? Emma couldn't believe her ears.

"You two know each other?" Clint asked, giving Emma a confused stare. The cleaning bots had tried to vacuum the flour out of his hair, leaving the bed head even more tousled.

"Uhm, yeah, we kinda do," Emma said, and Steve just gaped at her.

"Where were you?" Bucky repeated. Emma made a face.

"I'm sorry I didn't come, I was really tired after sparring with Steve. I totally forgot and fell asleep without thinking," she said softly. Bucky seemed to ponder her answer, and Steve smiled kindly at him.

"Hi Bucky," he said, and Bucky gave Steve a small smile too.

"Steve," Bucky remarked, and looked like he was about to turn and leave.

"Hey Bucky?" Emma said. Bucky caught her gaze at her.

"You want some Lucky Charms?" A smile fell on his lips, and Steve looked on the verge of tears, because out of the days he had spent with Bucky, he had only seen him smile that bright on very few occasions.

"No thanks doll, I'm going to head back," he said. She popped up from her chair, and closed her fingers around his wrist of flesh, squeezed. Bucky only glanced at the motion, and his fists weren't clenched anymore.

"You did good," she whispered before letting him go. Bucky nodded at Tony and Clint, smiled at Steve, a small smile, but still, and bowed his head slightly Natasha's way before going back to the elevators. As soon as the doors closed, the others broke out of their spell.

"How-"

"What-"

"When-"

The three male Avengers shut up at the same time, which gave Emma the time to explain, further encouraged by Natasha's surprised eyebrow.

"I have a big trouble sleeping, and so does he, and once, like three weeks ago, I walked down to the kitchen and found him here, and I began talking, you know how I love the sound of my own voice, and then I just... Kept on coming down here. He's kind of my nightly friend," she said, sitting down and munching on her pancakes again.

"That can be taken in so many ways," Nat heard Clint mutter, and she flicked his forehead. He yelped and she shook her head at him.

"Thank you," Steve said, his face so open and earnest Emma kind of felt like hiding in the vents. The man was just so goddamned _honest_. He spoke with conviction and stubbornness and opinion, and he would get people to understand him, but he had lost Emma along the rails.

"For what?" she laughed. "I should be thanking you, because this is one good pancake batter, even though you three left me out of the war. I'm pissed about that."

"I... I haven't heard Bucky talk that much to anyone in a long time," Steve said softly. "Thank you."

"Oh... Yeah, well, you should join us. Or not. I don't know, I'll ask him," she said.

"You have that much trouble sleeping?" Clint asked, frowning slightly. Emma shrugged.

"Yeah. So? Whatever, I'm fine," she said, brushing it off. The elevatorbell dinged again, and the man she recognized as Phil Coulson appeared on the scene. He was dressed in a crisp blue suit, and tie. He looked very professional, but there was something about him that was nice, and also threatening. Emma couldn't really place it when he cleared his throat.

"Agents," he said, waving a folder. "I've got a mission."

\---

Natasha and Clint set out to pack as soon as Coulson left, and Emma was sitting in the couch on their floor, looking the two agents over as soon as they peeked out of their rooms.

"So, uh, we'll be gone for about a week," Clint said, shifting his duffel around on his shoulder. Emma shrugged.

"M'kay. Go have fun and shoot stuff," she said flippantly.

"If we don't come back," Natasha began, and Emma raised an eyebrow at her. "Then the other Avengers will care for you." Emma nodded silently.

"Okay. Try not to die. That goes for both of you," she gave them both stern glares, and Clint grinned.

"Can't promise that, sweetheart," he said.

"I'll keep an eye on him," Natasha promised with a slight eyeroll and shuffled Clint towards the elevators.

"Bye!" she called.

After reading for almost half an hour about the shit that had transpired while she was underground (said _fucking alien invasion_ ), she was bored. And it was only noon.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, miss Emma?"

"How's Bucky?" she asked, stretching out on the couch. It was a little too soft for her, but it worked. It was black too, very suitable for the two agents but not really for her.

"Sergeant Barnes is fine, considering the circumstances," Jarvis said. She nodded.

"Can you... Ask him something?"

"Of course, miss Emma."

"Oh, okay, ask him if he want's to come to my floor. For video games. Non-violent. Like Mario Kart. No, wait, that can get violent, uuuh... Just, ask him?" Jarvis was silent for a while.

"Sergeant Barnes claims that he shall beat you in every single game you shall play," Jarvis said, sounded amused. Emma laughed.

"Tell Anakin to bring his ass up here and prove it then," she grinned.

A few minutes later, the elevator bell dinged. Bucky warily stepped out of it, looking around, scanning every inch of the place.

"Hi Bucky!" Emma said, waving him towards the couch. Bucky was slowly approaching her.

"Anakin?" he asked, getting right to it, because he didn't tip-toe around things that much. Or, like, at all.

"It's a Star Wars reference. Oh, we should watch that! Or not. I don't know, there's some shooting involved, and to be honest, I can barely handle my own panic attacks, and I don't have a metal hand that can stop Steve's shield in mid-air and military training," she pointed out. _I have something worse_.

Bucky didn't answer and sat down slowly on the couch. "But games? We've got that. And tons of movies. Like Disney! Except for maybe the Lion King, because that shit is very very emotional, but you haven't seen enough Disney. You can never ever see enough Disney."

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of taking breaks on weekends. Idek the schedule for this, I'm just rolling with it.  
> Thank you for the comments and the Kudos! Get's me so excited... I showed my mom to prove I was an internet sensation, and she gave me ice cream. Thank you so much, friends.


	10. Pillowforts and Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if the story doesn't make much sense??? Like, I read through it and I was vv confused, so I might go back and fix some things. But whatever, I've got plans for this. Right now I have a lot of stuff going on, life getting in the way, yada yada, but I'm keeping up.  
> Thank you for reading!

 

The whole week that Natasha and Clint were supposed to be gone, Emma and Bucky had marathons. It was like being brainwashed, Bucky decided, but so much better. Because he was in control of when he fell asleep and when he ate. And when he fell asleep, Emma moved into her own room. He had nearly begged her to, not wanting to lash out in his sleep and accidentally kill the one person he had in this world that didn't make him feel so suspicious.

And maybe it was the fact that she talked non-stop, or the fact that reliving what little he remembered from his years before the Winter Solider without Steve there to look like a kicked puppy when he didn't remember something, but damn, that little girl had stuck on him.

They were watching one of the Alien movies, Emma curled inside a pillowfort that they had made three days earlier, when her phone rang.

Emma jumped, and she quickly snapped a knife out from nowhere, or her sock probably, before taking a deep breath and calming down. She picked the phone up, and Jarvis, the weird voice in the ceiling that never tattled when he accidentally tore doors off their hinges and gave him messages, lowered the volume on the tv.

"Yeah, what?" Emma asked, rolled over on her back. She sat up quickly, obviously startled.

"It's Natasha. We can't come home yet." The words weren't Natasha's usual calm tone, they were slightly hurried, as if she wanted to get away from the phone as quick as possible.

"What? Why?" Emma asked, suddenly scared. Losing her new flat-mates was not the way to top of this awesome week with Bucky. Natasha took a deep, shaky breath, and Emma's heartbeat picked up, started pounding in her ears.

"Clint's-" Natasha's voice broke, and Emma had to remember to keep on breathing when Natasha swallowed hard on the other end of the line. "Clint is hurt. Really bad."

The air got knocked out of her lungs, and she found it harder and harder to breathe.

"What?" was all that she could get out before she felt her eyes burning with tears, and Bucky felt a sting of an unfamiliar emotion. Maybe pity? Sympathy? He had no clue.

"We won't be home for a while, so... Just... Stay okay," Natasha said, her voice evening out a little.

"I need a little more to go on that just that, is he going to be okay?" Emma whispered, curling up a little.

"We don't know yet. His body was in shock, lots of blood loss and trauma, he almost died." Emma could hear the Widow slip into Natasha's voice as she spoke, and that wasn't good, because Natasha was never the Widow with Clint, with Clint she joked, she was soft and relaxed, and it was something that was obviously years of trust and comfort built up.

"But is he going to be okay?" Emma pressed.

"I don't know, and I don't like it, not one bit. But we won't be home for a while," Natasha said, barely emitting emotion.

"Okay..." Emma managed to get out, and then there was a click, and Natasha was off. Emma just sat there staring at her screen saver, the picture of Thor buried in bags and Steve too, smiling and eating ice cream. But the picture was too happy for her, she can't breathe, because Clint isn't okay, and she hasn't realized that she's crying until she feels Bucky's cool metal hand drying a tear off her face.

"Oh, dear god, doll," he muttered, because he wasn't used to crying, or comforting people. Bucky may have been good at it, but the Winter Solider was not, and that was beginning to show when Emma only started sobbing, louder.  
She crawled closer to him, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling herself into his arms. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but for gods sakes, he was in her pillowfort, he apparently didn't hate her that much, and she was panicking.

Bucky stilled as she pressed her tiny face into his chest. For comfort. _Comfort_. She was probably crazier than he was when he carefully wrapped his flesh arm around her tiny person. She sniffled into his shirt, and he didn't know what had happened, but there must be something wrong. He didn't ask. Emma didn't say.

They just stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, her snuggled into his chest, him with one arm around her. It... It was new, for Bucky to hold someone, and for Emma to be held, but it was a good new.

A new calm in the storm of nightmares and battles with yourself that can't be won.

\---

It took a long while until they heard from the two agents again. Almost a month, which then meant that Emma had spent exactly two months in the tower. Tony, the party-lover, decided that this was indeed time to throw a spectacular party, and did so. Fireworks, cake, the whole shebang. Except Steve managed to convince him to just invite people that Emma knew. 

Thank all the gods and Thor's in the universe for Steve Rogers.

Emma was currently sitting next to Bucky in a couch on the roof, sipping a soda and eating cake as Steve and Tony danced, and Thor and Jane, and surprisingly, Darcy and Bruce.

As soon as Emma and Darcy Lewis had shook hands, she had been in love. The woman was brilliant, she almost outranked Pepper on Emma's favorite people list. She was almost always smiling, and somehow, she had kept Jane alive for so long. Jane was also great, she was nice and sunny and she could make this snake face that just oozed 'don't fucking cross me', one that could make even Tony waiver.

To say that Emma liked them, well, that was an understatement.

Jane kissed Thor sweetly on the lips, and Thor beamed, he was like a huge golden retriever Emma had decided. At the same time Steve pecked Tony's cheek, and Emma saw Bucky squint a little, trying to understand them. Emma had given up trying.

She poked Bucky's arm, and he looked at her, slightly confused.

"They're engaged," Emma explained. Bucky's eyebrows rose.

"I know."

"Really? Cause you had that calculating look that you have whenever you're trying to figure something out." He looked over at Tony whispering something in Steve's ear, and Steve laughed, earning a grin from Tony.

"He doesn't wear the ring when he's with me," Bucky said, calm and collected once again, his eyes sweeping over the others on the patio. Tony really knew how to build nice stuff. "The only reason I know is 'cause he has a tan line there. And he thinks I wouldn't approve."

"Do you?" Emma asked, genuinely curious now.

"What Steve does is not my business. But he seems happy. So, who cares." Emma grinned.

"That is very-" She was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing, and she quickly pulled it out, because the only people who actually called her, were right there on the roof.

Except for two of them.

"Natasha?" Emma nearly squeaked.

"Yes, Emma, no need to scream," Natasha noted, her voice the usual calm and collected. But tired. Very very tired.

"Are you okay? Are you coming home?" she asked.

"Yes. We are. But we were both injured, and Clint won't feel the same as he did before. Okay?"

"Okay," Emma whispered.

"We're downstairs."

"Oh, come on up to the roof! We're having a party. Tony's idea."

"Great, what is he throwing a party at this time?" Natasha drawled. Emma could hear a chuckle on the other line, a little distant and huffier than Natasha's. That was Clint's laugh, Clint was okay!

"Me, mostly. I've been here for two months now," Emma said quietly.

"Oh," Natasha said, seemingly stunned. "How are they treating you?"

"Bucky is being my couch buddy, Steve and Tony are tonguing, Jane and Thor too, and Darcy is my crush," Emma announced, and Bucky snorted, eyed Darcy from his seat on the couch. "Shut up," she said and punched his arm.

"Great. One second."

The elevator doors opened, and Natasha came out of the elevator first. Her hair was nice as always, but she had dark rings under her eyes, ever so watchful, and she took in everyone she felt safe with. Some tension drained from her shoulders, and she even gave out a soft smile as Emma skipped over to her, hugging her.

Because she had missed Natasha. And Natasha gave her a soft hug back, running her fingers lightly over her hair.

And then Clint came out. He looked worse than Emma had ever seen him, he looked tired and pale, the sickly kind of pale, and he had the faintest whiff of alcohol around him, as if he had been pulled out of binge drinking after days.

But when he saw Emma, he looked a little bit happier. Sure, he was 80 % deaf, and he couldn't stand up and walk around that much without Natasha's help because he had _lost one of his senses_ , but that little girl Emma was filled to the brim with joy at seeing them again, and that filled his heart with warmth.

"Clint!" she exclaimed, and hugged him, lightly, as if not to injure him. And it touched his heart, so he slowly bent down to her degree a little bit, and hugged her back. Only that small motion made his eyes swim, but he was determined to hug this girl as if she was the last thing he held close.

Natasha had gotten sick of his drinking and sulking and sitting, so she had pulled him out of the dumps and she had signed with him. That she actually knew ASL was life-changing, he knew it too, and she had gotten even more fluid as the weeks he had refused his hearing aids had gone by, but she hadn't given up on his sorry ass, and that was all that mattered to him.

And as Emma was telling him about a pillowfort she and Barnes had made, he stole a glance at Natasha, being hugged by Steve and Tony and he could feel his heart warm up even more.

Because she was his partner, and even though he knew just how he thought about her, he wasn't ready to admit it to himself. Probably not ever.

\---


	11. Regrets and Arrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This a little peek at what our favorite agents were doing whilst Emma and Bucky made pillowforts.  
> Also, I usually post in the evening, but since like, everybody in America post when they get home, the archive is busy af, and I couldn't post yesterday. But, here you go!

 

It had been her fault. Well, it hadn't, but it had. She hadn't reached Clint in time.

"Hawkeye!" Natasha snapped over the comm. Losing Clint in the middle of a pitch black warehouse was not the way she had planned this mission. Far from, this was supposed to be a normal mission, a normal, simple mission where they would come home to the tower bloody and bruised, and Tony would walk into the kitchen looking like he just stuck a fork in a toaster, smiling at them and offering coffee like it was noon and not two a.m.

But no, here she was, lost in the dark, with an unestimated number of enemies around her, and she had lost Clint. ебать. 

"Yeah?" Clint huffed, and she could hear someones bones cracking.

"Where are you?" she whispered, leaning against a crate.

"Uh, on the second floor, third room on the left after two right turns," Clint grunted.

"Got company?" Natasha asked as she started dashing for the flight of stairs she could see on the other side of the room. Clint made another grunting noise, and she heard him chuckle.

"Not anymore. But more are coming, and-" Suddenly, a scream pierced the darkness, and Natasha's comm crackled with it.

"Barton!" she hissed, her heart pounding in her ears as she started running up the stairs, faster, faster, _faster_.

"His comm is down," Coulson alerted her, and she began running, ready to shoot whoever the fuck decided to peek out of the rooms she passed. But no one came, and now she could only hear whimpering, gasps.

She flung the door open to the third room on the left, and saw Clint on the floor. He had his hands over his ears, and he was making sobbing sounds, whimpering, gasping. Blood was pooling over the floor where his head was, and his hands were covered in his own blood.

"Hawkeye is down, I repeat, Hawkeye is down, get some medics in here right now!" Natasha snapped into her comm as she dropped to the floor next to Clint, grabbing his hands. "Clint-Clint, it's okay, they're on their way, what happened?" she whispered, but he was making less pained sounds, and his body was going stiff underneath her, as she locked her eyes with his.

The pools of blue were twisted with tears and pain, and Natasha looked up, searching for whatever could be the source of his pain.

And there, right next to the open window, there were two bloody arrows lying on the ground.

...

Natasha was numb. Her whole being felt numb as she sat in the tacky hospital chair. She was staring at his blood on her hands, and she bit her lip until she tasted rust.

She had stayed with Clint until they told her she couldn't. She was sitting next to Coulson, reminding herself to breathe in and breathe out, in, out, in, out-

"I need to use the restroom," Natasha muttered and stood up. She locked the door after her, and walked over to the sink, turning the water on, before letting her glance at her own injuries.

Her face was blank, hair slightly tousled. She didn't want to see that face in the mirror anymore. She wasn't Natalia covered in some enemy's blood. She was Natasha covered in Clint's blood. Clint, her partner, her friend.

She began washing her hands, rubbing and rubbing at the bloodstains. The water felt like ice on her fingers, scorching her numb skin. The blood wouldn't come off, it clung to her fingers and nails and she couldn't get it _off_ and-

"Natasha, it's okay to be upset."

Natasha's look snapped up, and she stared into the mirror, seeing Coulson behind her.

"I'm okay," she said, and kept up the rubbing at her hands. "It's just the blood, it won't come off, he's stubborn, and I can't have his blood on my hands." Her voice quivered at the last part.

"It's okay, you don't have to get it off now," Coulson said quietly. "And like you said, he's stubborn, he's not going to let this kill him." Natasha kept rubbing. "Natasha."

"What?!" she snapped, turning around. Coulson gave her a soft look, and took her hands in his, pulling out a few paper towels and drying her hands off.

"It's okay to be scared. It's okay to not be okay. Your partner is hurt. You have every right to be upset." She could feel her hands stinging from where she had rubbed off pieces of her skin.

"I'm the Black Widow, I haven't earned that title for nothing," Natasha said, straightening up. Coulson just gave her a glance, sighed.

"Well, go call Emma. She deserves to know why you two won't be getting home."

"Yes Sir."

...

Natasha could be patient. She had been trained by the best to be patient. Sitting still in her chair was just another challenge, she told herself.

But when a doctor entered the room, she could feel her heartbeat pick up.

"Clint Barton's family?" the doctor said, and Natasha was on her feet before Coulson could even move.

"Yes, that's us," she said, calm, clipped. The doctor's look made her feel like she wouldn't like what he was going to say next.

"I'm Dr. Olsen. Are you his family?"

"We're his team," Coulson explained, held the badge up.

"Ah. Well. Mr. Barton was stabbed in the ears with two arrows. That caused his body to go into shock, which almost made us lose him by that alone. The arrows ruptured his eardrums and caused severe damage to the middle ear and inner ear. Sadly, there was too much damage for us to medically repair. So, there's not a lot we can do."

"What the hell?" Natasha snapped. "Can he hear?"

"No," the doctor said simply. His eyes looked sympathetic as they grazed Natasha's shell shocked form. "Mr. Barton is deaf."

"No..." she mumbled, covering her face with her hands. "You're not serious."

"I'm sorry, Ma'm."

"Can I see him? Is he awake?" she asked, looking over at the doctor again.

"We sedated him to ease the pain and discomfort, but yes, you may see him. He is asleep for the moment. But you should think of a way to tell him when he wakes up, the discomfort and confusion will be total." Natasha didn't listen anymore, she nearly ran over to the door where she knew Clint was, and opened the door.

Clint lay limply on the bed, his head wrapped in bandages and tanned skin pale. He was pale, sickly pale, to the point of nearly blending into the sheets. She slowly stepped over to the bed, running her fingers from his fingertip, over his knuckles and hand, to his wrist and elbow, all the way up his neck, cradling his jaw lightly.

Natasha let her fingers graze the short, blonde tufts of hair sticking out from underneath the bandages, and sighed softly.

_He's not dead. He's still alive._

"Barely," she mumbled to herself, but she knew he could beat this too. He was stubborn. Clint was stubborn.

...

Clint felt like _shit._ His head was swimming, and he could feel the familiar dull pain from painmeds. Great.

What had even happened? He could just remember his ears hurting, and screams, and Natasha...

He slowly opened his eyes, and the room was blurry, like he had been hit really hard in the head. It was strangely quiet, no beeping from the heart monitor, just... Silence.

He saw a tousle of red hair splayed over his sheets, and for a second he tought he was still bleeding, until the red shape moved. Natasha blinked up at him, and she gave him a small, sorrow filled smile.

"Nat?" he asked. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, and- Holy shit. "Tasha?"

He couldn't hear himself say her name.

"Natasha?" he slurred, and she placed a gentle hand on his chest, shaking her head. His eyes widened. "What?" She bit her lip, and she looked so sad, and Clint didn't know why, but he still couldn't fucking hear himself talk to her.

She suddenly had an idea, and grabbed a notepad and a pen out of nowhere, scribbled furiously. What was going on?

_You were attacked from behind in the warehouse. We're in a hospital._

Clint's ears were pounding, and his heart was too as she saw the fear in his eyes, and scribbled some more.

_You were stabbed through your ears with two of your arrows._

What? Had...

"No," he mumbled, tried to shake his head, but it hurt so much, and Natasha swallowed hard, her green eyes watering as she wrote on the notepad.

 _Your eardrums were ruptured, you suffered grave injury to both your middle and inner ear. You're deaf_.

Deaf.

Clint Barton. Master assassin. Avenger. Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Vent crawler. Deaf.

"What?" His voice cracked, and now Natasha's tears were streaming down her face, and she bit her lip, gave him a teary eyed smile.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed at him, and that made his lip quiver too. She leant into him, hugging him, and he wrapped his arms around her too, hugging her tightly as she whispered 'I'm so sorry' over and over again.

...

Coulson let Natasha stay by Clint's side until the doctors more thoroughly explained Clint condition and gave him more painkillers to knock him out.

He had been calmer than she expected. She had thought he would be the stubborn ass she knew and trusted, and say she was wrong, deny it. But he didn't. He just... Accepted it.

She was sitting by his bedside when Coulson knocked on the door.

"Coffee?" he asked, handing her a cup. She took it, nodded a quiet 'thank you'.

"Does he know ASL?" Natasha asked suddenly, both of them just staring at Clint.

"He does. He had to know it for Shield training," Coulson nodded. "Do you?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Good. I was told he will be able to have hearing aids. As soon as most of it has healed, we'll get him set up with those. Top notch." She nodded.

"Okay." He'll get better. He'll be fine. She had to keep telling herself that.

Because he was Clint, and Clint always pulled through. He had to. If not for himself, then for her.

\---

Clint woke up here and there over the next few hours. His eyes searched until they found Natasha's red hair, and then he could fall back asleep again. During the night, he slept soundly, not even remembering his dreams. The next morning when he woke up, he didn't speak. He was quiet and he didn't move much.

When the nurses asked him questions, he wrote, or nodded, or shook his head. Other than that, he just looked around, pain, confusion and sadness permanently edged into his features. Natasha wanted to straighten out the wrinkles on his forehead with her thumb, but she didn't. She let him be.

The day after that, Clint was stable enough to be moved to a Shield hospital. He spent the next 24 hours hurling every time he tried to get up and walk, and was diagnosed with acute unilateral vestibulopathy because of the trauma his ears had suffered.

Two days after _that_ , he was released from the hospital, and was able to walk short distances. But it still hurt, his head wouldn't stop spinning and he couldn't take his hand off the wall whilst walking. But he was doing better.  
Coulson let them stay in their old Shield quarters during this. Clint still hadn't talked. It was annoying everybody, Coulson, Natasha, and now Hill. He didn't care. He just wanted to lie the fuck in his bed until the walls stopped bending around him. But, as he had been told, that would be the worst thing to do right now.

In order to get over this acute unilateral vestibulopathy, he had to get up and walk around, let his body adapt to being without one of his senses. Clint wasn't angry. He wasn't pissed anymore. He was numb. He didn't care.

He followed the wall to his bedroom, took two staggering steps and flopped onto his bed. Natasha was somewhere in his apartment, he knew that. He just didn't know exactly where.

He shook his head a little. That was the weird thing about being deaf: his head felt heavy, like there was something in his ears and if he just shook his head enough, he would be able to dislodge it. Like it was water.

But it wasn't.

He was just deaf.

...

Over the past week, Clint hadn't felt better. He had felt worse, in fact. He skipped his therapy sessions, he hadn't spoken since he first found out he was deaf, and he felt like absolute shit. He couldn't walk, he couldn't see straight, he just didn't care. So he took up what he knew dulled pain the best.

Booze.

When Natasha found him with a bottle of whiskey in his hand for the sixth time, it had been nine days. He hadn't showered, he hadn't shaved, he hadn't even gone outside. Natasha had had enough.

" **Stop** ," she signed. He gave her a small smirk, and raised the bottle to take a new sip when Natasha grabbed his arm. Because now she was angry. She was really fucking pissed. She stole the bottle from his grasp, and went to put it away when he grabbed her arm to stop her.

Enough is enough.

" **Clint, no** ," Natasha signed, shaking her head at him. He reached for the bottle again, and apparently he didn't fucking get it, but she was going to make him.

So she dropped the bottle and it fell smashing to the floor, liquid slipping everywhere over the tile floors of his small kitchenette.

" **I said NO** ," she signed, even spelling 'no' out to him. " **It's not going to help. You need to snap out of it.** " Clint just stared at her for a while.

"Why?" he asked, his voice gruff and gravelly from lack of use. It was the first word he had said since he found out he was deaf, and normally Natasha would have encouraged him for talking, but she was too angry. She brushed it off.

" **Because this isn't you** ," she signed, and rested a hand on his arm. " **You're not broken, Clint**." He swallowed.

"What if I am?" Natasha just shook her head at him, and gently placed her hand on his jaw. His breath caught, but she was too fast for him in this dizzy state.

She closed the distance between them, and kissed him gently.

It was soft and careful, and over in a moment, but somehow, it made Clint's head swim in an entirely different way.

" **Shower. Shave. We're going back** ," Natasha signed, and gave him a soft smile. Clint could do nothing but comply.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Natasha says in russian, basically means 'fuck'.


	12. Non-consequential Actions And Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so sorry that I haven't updated! I've had kind of a dry spell in writing in general, and Bones is a vv good tv show. And also, like three of my friends birthdays are this week. One is even today, one was yesterday, and in two days there's another one! I'm slightly panicking. Enough about me.  
> Enjoy this short chapter!

 

So here they were, Natasha eating cake with her feet in Steve's lap, Clint leaning against the wall, both of them watching Emma play-fight with Bucky, wrestling and giggling, and Bucky was probably not even using a third of that grippy arm's strength as Emma rolled him over and pinned him down, grinning.

Natasha hadn't mentioned their kiss. Clint hadn't either. He really wanted to kiss her again, but he was afraid he was going to lose another part of himself. But a limb this time, one that he was particularly fond of. He didn't want to lose another part of himself at all. To top all of his nervousness off, his hearing aids still felt weird, like permanently having headphones on, but not at all. It was weird. Really really weird.

He was still getting used to it, trying not to focus on it. He could read lips okay, that wasn't an issue, but if Steve gave his back a friendly pat, he was sure that his hearing aids would fall out and he would have to explain himself. He didn't like that. Not one bit.

"One cake for you," Emma beamed as she came up to him and gave him a plate.

"Thank you," Clint replied as she dragged him down onto the couch, next to her, who was sitting next to Bucky. "Barnes." He nodded Bucky's way, who, to his surprise, nodded back.

"Barton. Mission go okay?" Clint's throat clenched.

"Yeah. Slight complication. We made it through alive." _We got really lost. I got really lost_. Barnes nodded again.

"Good." He looked away again. Bucky was never really that talkative, and if there was something Clint liked about him, it was that. Emma, however, she was really talkative.

"So, how's it been in the tower?" he asked to get her to stop bouncing in her seat.

"Oh, it's been awesome! I have access to Tony's lab 24/7, because I'm a 'fucking genius kid', and I am quoting him on that. He will never ever get out of that. He may have been sleep deprived and running on a caffeine rush, but, I'm taking the compliment anyways," Emma said. She followed Clint's gaze at Natasha. "You're not even listening to me. A cow jumped over the mooooon. Bucky threw me from the top floor and I'm actually a ghost. Tony and Steve had sex in your bed." No reaction. Bucky was smiling, and Emma shook her head, smacked Clint's arm. He flinched.

"What?" he said quickly.

"You didn't listen to me! And I know I talk a lot, but geeze, go gush about Nat to her, or stop staring."

"I-I was not staring!"

"You were," Bucky assured him, and Clint shot him a mock-annoyed glare.

"Well, who asked for your opinion, old man? You probably think 'wooing' is still a thing. Newsflash: it's not." Emma laughed.

"Don't crush his dreams, come on Clint," she grinned. "Dance with me?" He smiled.

"How about you and Bucky dance? I have to finish this delicious cake." Emma looked over at Bucky with wide eyes, and he sighed, got up. Emma skipped up after him, and Clint let out a breath. Dodged a bullet.

\---

After that party, everyone felt a little closer. Tony deemed the party a total success when he was dragged into his and Steve's bedroom later that night.

"That... Was awesome," Tony mumbled into the sheets he had just flopped himself onto. Steve tugged his lovers shoes off.

"It was. It was nice having everyone around. Like the big family we are," Steve said softly as he helped Tony out of his jeans, getting help from the billionaire's wiggling hips. Tony chuckled.

"Big family? You ever want that as a kid?"

"I was sickly, I was probably not going to live long enough for that," Steve pointed out, tugged his own pants off. Tony turned around on his back to enjoy the scenery, smiling up at Steve.

"That didn't answer my question, Capsicle," he pointed out. Steve sighed quietly.

"Yes. I wanted a big family. Growing up, it was just me and my mom. She worked a lot, so I wanted siblings to play with. A big family where there is always someone home, always someone to welcome you into their arms," he said as he crawled onto his side of the bed. Tony swallowed hard and crawled under the covers too, throwing his shirt off and onto the floor.

"It was usually just me and the bots, and Jarvis. Not AI Jarvis, the real Jarvis. Mom was always off working, and dad was always in his lab, usually drunk. And I hate talking about him, but there, I did it," he muttered as he crawled into Steve's arms. Steve kissed Tony's mop of messy hair, inhaled the permanent smell of metal and coffee and grease, and that one thing that was just so Tony, it could sweep Steve right off his feet.

"That's good, that you're talking about him," Steve mumbled, his eyelids dropping. The dim light of Tony's arc reactor always soothed him to sleep. Since he moved into Tony's room, nightmares about the cold and the darkness of the ocean didn't really phase him as much. Because if he woke up, Tony was there, and he was warm, and the light of the arc reactor made him understand that Tony was alive, and that he was safe, he was safe in the warmth and the light of Tony Stark's arms, and Steve could fall back asleep again.

"Yeah. I guess it is..." Tony was almost snoring at the end of his sentence, and Steve smiled, kissed his fiancé's forehead before falling asleep too, happy to be holding him in his arms.

\---


	13. Nightmares and Morning Upsies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive! And hopefully, out of my writersblock!  
> Yay!  
> Happy reading, friends!

 

_Emma was wrapped in a cocoon of darkness, struggling to get out, her breathing was shallow and the smoke was pressing down her lungs, making every breath feel like nails impaling the insides of her lungs. She couldn't fucking breathe, she was tearing her way through the tight, black, whatever the fuck it was, and she could hear screaming._

_You can never hide from me_

_you're dead_

_I know where you are_

_you can't catch me now, not now, not ever_

_stay away from me_

_I'm coming for you_

_no stop_

Emma yelped in pain as she fell to the floor, freeing herself from her blanket and dry-heaving, panting and gasping.

"Shit," she breathed, crawled into sitting position, curling up like a ball. "Fuck me..." She felt her heart beating hard in her chest, like she'd just ran a fucking marathon. God, she hated nightmares.

She felt like she was going to be sick, so she stood up on shaky legs, struggled to get into the bathroom in time. Right as she opened the lid, she threw up, emptying the contents of her stomach.

"Would you like for me to call on someone, miss?" Jarvis asked. Emma spat, and dried her mouth.

"No... Please don't...." she said, her voice trembling. She cleared her throat. "Thanks though."

"Of course, miss," Jarvis said, sounded concerned. Emma rinsed her mouth with water, and brushed her teeth again to get the taste out of her mouth. Slowly, she walked back to her room, thinking she pissed herself or something. But no, the bed was clean, and she sank back into the marshmallow.

"Jarvis? Is Bucky up?"

"Yes, miss Emma, he is," Jarvis said quietly. "Do you wish for me to send for him?"

"No, uh, no. I just wanted to know. Is everyone else sleeping?"

"Captain Rogers is out on his morning run, Agents Romanoff and Barton are in the training rooms, Dr. Banner has not slept in 26 hours and 19 minutes, Thor and Ms. Foster are in their bed, Ms. Lewis is asleep, and Sir is asleep."

"Whoa. What time is it?"

"6:09 A.M." Emma laughed.

"Of course. Because the Avengers tower is always a flurry of energy." She took Thor's cape and draped it around her shoulders, using the fabric as wings as she flew into the living room on their floor.

Resting on the couch, she took up Netflix, and wanted to drain the memory of the dream of all color.

Stretching, she began to do handstands on the carpet, doing push ups, the exercises she used to do before getting up on the line. She didn't miss it. Well, yeah, maybe a little, but she didn't want more things to resurface. If Emma could avoid her entire past, she would. Without a doubt.

Around seven, when Emma was on her second episode of Adventure Time, the elevator dinged, and Clint and Natasha came in. Emma was balancing herself on her hands, slowly placing her feet back on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Clint asked as he saw her. She was one weird, but brilliant, kid.

"I'm doing a handstand, what does it look like I'm doing, making pancakes?" Emma said, raised her one leg in the air. Straight up.

"Nice," Clint remarked, sat down on the couch. Natasha went into the bathroom, and was just about to brush her teeth when Jarvis spoke up.

"I believe miss Emma had a nightmare," he said quietly. Natasha looked up at the ceiling.

"How so?"

"Elevated heart rate, dry heaving, cold sweat, hurling, are all symptoms of a traumatizing nightmare," Jarvis enlightened her. Natasha bit her lip.

"Thank you for telling me, Jarvis."

"Absolutely, agent."

"Tell me whenever she has a nightmare, and keep track of it. I want to see how bad it is," Natasha said.

"Noted."

"Thank you Jarvis."

Out in the living room, Clint wasn't even going to try moving like she did. When he and Natasha had sparred, he had been wanting to throw up the entire time, but now, he just... Felt like complete and total shit. Natasha had only cut him some slack, she had still punched him hard, just not as hard as usual. His reflexes weren't shit, he just couldn't move as quick as he wanted to.

Seeing Emma doing handstands basically made him want to puke. He relaxed into the couch, internally thanking Stark and his love for plushy couches, and watched Adventure Time. For a kids show, it was kinda deep.

"I'm hungry," Emma whined from the floor, where she had buttplanted and begun to roll around.

"Go downstairs and eat then," Clint suggested.

"I don't wanna move."

"If you're hungry, you gotta eat." Emma groaned and stood up, dragging Thor's cape after her. The big blonde guy was happy to offer his cape to 'such a small fierce warrior'. "Emma?"

"What?"

"Bring me some pancakes if Steve made some." Emma grumbled something that sounded like 'and fuck you', but he didn't pay any attention to it. Emma took the elevator downstairs, and found Bruce by the kitchen island, eating toast like it was his last meal on death row.

"Hi Bruce!" Emma said cheerfully, and the scientist gave her a small smile and a nod. "How has your morning been?"

"Good. I got into this project and stayed up all night though. I don't think that was too smart."

"Well, I've heard that intelligent minds run better during the night or something." Bruce smiled as she took out the cereal, began pouring it into a bowl when the elevator bell dinged, signaling someone's arrival.

"Staying up late isn't exactly smart, though, is it?"

"Depends," Emma said as that someone that stepped into the kitchen cleared it's throat. They both looked up. "Bucky!" Emma exclaimed cheerfully.

Bucky's hair was up, something that Emma had gotten more used to during Natasha and Clint's period of absence. It was nice, it was something he did when he felt relaxed, and comfortable.

"Dr. Banner. Emma," Bucky said, and took his place by the kitchen island like this was a casual thing, not a break through. Emma decided to roll with it.

"Want some breakfast?" she asked, and Bruce looked down on his sad piece of toast.

"Depends, doll, what've you got?" he asked, leaning on his metal arm. It creaked, and Bruce eyes snapped up, studied Bucky's arm with fascination from behind his glasses.

"Well, cereal. Toast. Hot chocolate," she winked at him, and he smiled, a small one, but a victory nonetheless.

"I'd love some... Toast." He frowned slightly as he extended his metal arm and it creaked again.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Emma asked as she put to pieces of toast into the toaster, because speaking up was something Bucky appreciated.

"No."

"Well... You could let Tony take a look at it," Bruce suggested carefully. Bucky redirected his eyes to Bruce, being silent, as if he was pondering his answer.

"Tony would go ballistic. He would probably eat dirt to get to look at your arm," Emma pointed out as she began eating her cereal. Bucky looked strange for a second, not scared, but not angry, just... Hurt.

"I've gotta say, it's pretty... nice," Bucky remarked after what felt like an hour of silence.

"So, you'd be okay to let him look at it? Jane would love to see it too, you know. And Bruce, you'd be interested, right?" Emma encouraged. "They could probably add some christmas lights. And add sound to it. Like, songs, or something. Or kittens! All the kittens, and stickers." Bucky just looked confused.

"Yes, it would be brilliant if we were allowed to check it out," Bruce said. Bucky swallowed hard, and his toasts popped up. As Emma spread butter on them and handed them to him, he made his decision.

"Okay."

\---


	14. Metal Arms and Hugging Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Jane and Tony bonding, because I kind of want Jane in the sciencebro club. And, well, whatever the fuck I did. I'm going to stop trying to write summaries, the chapter titles usually do that for me.  
> Enjoy!

 

Later that day, as Emma and Bucky sat on the common room floor, right in front of the tv, Jane tip-toed in, her eyes ablaze with curiosity and excitement.

"Uh, hey, Em, can I steal Bucky for a second?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Is it because of his arm?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, it is."

"Okay. Fine. But don't hurt him," she said sternly, and got up, pulled Bucky up with her.

"I'm not entirely sure that I can guarantee that. The replacement needed for that kind of a rip, the muscles needing replacement, the bones... It can't be that non-painful." Jane ushered them into the elevator, her eyes a little bit scared.

Emma assumed that she didn't want to harm Bucky any more than he was already hurt.

"You can still back down, you know," Emma remarked, gave Bucky a look. He shook his head.

"I ain't backing down," he muttered as the doors opened on Tony's workshops floor. Jane nodded.

"But, just so you know, as we haven't told Tony yet, you can still back out. Had we already told him, well, he might be a little more keen on getting to see it, because he's basically driven by coffee and things that almost electrocute him. So, he might not be as nice," she said sheepishly, stopping by the glass doors leading into Tony's lab.

"I'm certain," Bucky said firmly, and Jane nodded, typed in her passcode and let the door slide open.

"Hey, Tony!" she called, making his look snap up as the screens in front of him buzzed.

"Yeah?" he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Guess what Bucky just told me?" His hands dropped like bricks, and he beamed at her with large eyes. 

"Wait. Wait wait wait. Is... You're not fucking with me, right?" he said, backing up against the workshop desk. Jane shook her head, looking just as excited as him.

"He said we could examine it," she nearly squealed, and Tony looked like a five year old at Christmas.

"Fuck yes! Jarvis! Ready the scanners! We are going to digitally dissect every inch of that outdated piece of shit right now! Barnes, get your butt over here!" Tony demanded. Emma gently squeezed Bucky's arm and smiled up at him.

"Good luck," she whispered and he nodded, had his war face on as Tony and Jane showed him onto Tony's table that had appeared out from the floor. Emma decided that it was a good idea to go away, and decided to lash out on a few training dolls whilst one of her best friends was being picked apart.

\---

"His left side seems to be causing him most pain, Sir," Jarvis remarked, and Tony flipped a few of the videos of the Winter Soliders action's away.

"Yeah, because of the arm?" Tony suggested sarcastically, and glanced over to Jane, who was sitting next to the knocked out Bucky. It was better to have him asleep right now, since they couldn't get a hold of his old freezebox.

"But the arm is amazing," Jane pointed out. "Haven't you seen what he can do with that thing?"

"I think that's the problem," Tony muttered, enlarging a video of Bucky shooting people with it. "It's not a part of the body, it's more of a... A tool. It's got to hurt like fuck carrying that thing around. And now that he isn't using it for anything, its like me having a stapler attached to my leg. It's useless. We should really fix it. Make it lighter, but keep the general shape of it, to make the transition easier for him." Jane nodded, gazed down on his face.

"How do you think he was before all this?" she asked softly. Tony looked up from the scan of the arm. 

"Uh... Steve said he was nice. Respectful to the ladies that he wooed. He protected Steve when he was always looking for a fight. Polite, probably?" Tony shrugged, looking down on again.

"I can't believe they did this to him," she mumbled.

"Hydra is an organisation of many sides, fucking assholes being the most outstanding one. And that doesn't even begin to cover it," Tony said, shaking his head with venom in his voice.

"When do you think you can get the arm off?" she asked, biting her lip a little.

"As soon as it stops giving me shocks as soon as I try to prod in it," he pouted. "How affected do you think Emma is? Like, could she be my assistant and help me prod? That kid is pretty brilliant, I've got to admit it. Not nearly as awesome as me, but not miles behind." Jane gave him a dry smirk.

"I think she doesn't like to see him in pain, or see his insides, so I don't think she can play doctor with you Tony."

"It's not like it's his actual insides, it's the inside of his metallic arm!"

"The same arm that probably has comforted her a hundred times!" Jane argued. "It probably means a lot to her that you're fixing him up though." Tony gave her a weirded out look.

"Wait, what do you mean 'comforted her'? Like... Hugging?" Tony said, a confused frown on his face. Jane raised her eyebrows.

"What, is huggging a new concept for you?"

"Inbetween twelve year old girls and mentally unstable veterans from the forties with a metal arm and a _Hydra_ past? I'm going to say yes on that one, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that, it's degrading, especially with that tone," Jane said back, scowling at him. "And why can't they hug? They're friends. Probably the most unbelievable friends that I know of, but they're friends. Wouldn't Bruce comfort you with a hug?"

"Depends on if he's green or nah."

"How about Clint?"

"No. We don't hug."

"Natasha?"

"She only hugs Clint and sometimes Steve. And Coulson. On rare occasions."

"Ah!" Jane said, snapping her fingers. "Steve?"

"For fucks sake, of course Steve hugs me. He does a lot of other things too, like-"

"Tony, I don't want to know," Jane laughed, shaking her head. "How about... Rhodey?"

"Yeah, fine, Rhodey hugs me to comfort me. And Pep and Steve. But that's it." Jane bit her lip, and took a risk.

"How about your parents? Did they hug you?" she asked carefully. Tony stilled in his motions on the holographic screen. 

"No," he said, and began working again. "I should be able to open the arm. Could you hold it down for a sec?" Jane nodded hurriedly, and held the metallic arm down. She didn't doubt for a second that it could still fling her across the room, she was pretty light and small, but when Tony pried a panel loose and began pulling at wires, attempting to detach the arm, she felt a little safer.

Tony suddenly yelped in pain, and flinched away from the arm, but got an amazing reaction. Bucky's fingers flexed. He hummed as he sucked his finger where the shock had stung him, and got a screwdriver to poke at the same thing again.

Yet again, Bucky's fingers flickered.

"Amazing," Tony mumbled, distracted. "It's like a nervous system. Just... In wires. Jarvis, rescan the arm, is this supposed to happen? Can he feel it and control it with his own will?"

"Control it, yes, feel it, no," Jarvis answered. Tony grinned.

"Awesome. Those dicks at Hydra knew what they were doing."

"They were very professional, indeed, Sir." Jane sighed, yawned.

"It's late. Thor promised he would be back for bed." Tony wolf whistled, and Jane smacked his arm as he chuckled. " _Goodnight_  Tony!" she said as she walked over to the doors, that slid right open for her. 

"Night Jane!" he called over his shoulder. Sighing to himself, he stared down on Bucky's sleeping form. He never got to see Bucky this calm, breathing calm and quiet. No snoring here. That would ease his work immensely. He would have turned some tunes on, but that would wake Bucky, even with how much they had sedated him (it had taken the amount of drugs to topple an elephant).

He worked through the night, until he started seeing the sun peeking up over New York City.

A click was heard, and Tony whooped when the arm came right off.

"Yes! Fuck yes! I'm a genius!" he grinned, placing the arm on a separate table. "Yes!" He began dancing around the room, making happy noises as he went. "Jarvis, I'm going to need coffee. Tons of it."

"I shall send Captain Rogers down with a cup, Sir," Jarvis agreed.

"Whoa! Wait wait. No. Not Steve. Get Natasha to bring me it, or something. Can't have Steve seeing Bucky like this."

"As you wish," Jarvis said.

Five minutes later, Natasha came a-knocking. She handed him the cup without a word, stared with her green, watchful eyes at Bucky, unconscious.

"Status?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the arm that was detached.

"Alive," Tony said before basically inhaling his coffee.

"Good," Natasha said, her tone calm. "If you lose him, Steve will probably crash and burn, along with Emma. It won't be a pretty sight." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah I know. No pressure or anything."

"If you break Emma, I just might have to break you," Natasha said, her tone still even, but Tony knew the not-so-subtle threat that she was pulling.

"Right. Got it."

"Good."

When she left, Tony let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and shivered.

"Man. She is terrifying."

\---


	15. Wake Up Calls And Chick-Flick Moments With The Mopey Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR ALL THE COMMENTS I'M SO HAPPY  
> In other news, this is a pretty long chapter compared to the other ones. I just couldn't stop writing. Aaaaand, next week, I only have three days of school, so I'll be able to write, like, all the time! Yay!  
> Enjoy!

 

Emma was good friends with everyone in the tower. She knew who was who, and all the Avengers enjoyed her company. Even Bruce! That was an accomplishment. She liked to earn things. Smiles, mostly. 

The one person in the tower that she wasn't casually friendly with, was, unbelievably enough, Steve. He smiled at her, but it was mostly a kind of sad smile.

Safe to say, she didn't like it.

So she decided to be friendly with Steve, now that Bucky was rebooting. Emma strolled maybe a bit to casually into the common room, where Steve was sitting, drawing something. She was just about to ask when she saw what the drawing was.

It looked like Tony, but older, and without the devil beard, instead just a moustache. He was smiling brightly, and a woman stood next to him, with her hand up like she was waving. She looked powerful, a charming smile on full lips, and a glint in her eye. The two looked very happy.

"Hi Steve," Emma said, and Steve looked up, slamming the notebook closed. He offered her a smile.

"Hello."

"Tony is picking on Bucky." Steve laughed.

"Tell him to stop then," he said, putting down the notepad on the coffeetable.

"No, I don't mean like that," Emma gave out a short laugh. "I mean that Bucky told him it was okay to fix his arm, so he's literally picking on Bucky." Steve swallowed hard, nodded.

"Yeah. It's pretty heavy if I've got it right."

"It's not like any metal I've ever seen. It's still kind of warm all the time though. I wonder why that is." Steve hummed.

"Well, when Bucky and I were kids, I was real small and thin, so I wasn't very warm, and during the winter, it could get pretty cold in me and my mom's apartment. When he stayed over, he would crawl into my bed, and when I asked why, he always said that my teeth chattered so loud that he couldn't sleep," he smiled, staring at his hands. He had some smudge on his thumb from drawing, and he began rubbing it off. "Bucky was always like a furnace."

Emma pulled her feet up on the couch.

"Yeah? He's pretty warm still," she enlightened him. Steve smiled, that sorrow filled smile he always got whilst talking about his past. "What was he like when he was young?"

"He was stubborn. And protective. And sweet. Loyal, caring, kind. The best kind of solider and friend anyone can ask for." Steve sighed quietly. Emma hummed.

"Well. That settles it." She stood up, and Steve glanced up at her with confused blue eyes.

"What settles it?" Steve asked. Emma began skipping over to the kitchen, and curious, Steve followed her.

"There's tons of old Bucky in the Bucky I know," she declared, pulling some ice cream out of the fridge. "He's really warm, and stubborn. He was convinced that the Alien movies would be a great idea to watch in the middle of the night. He kept on making sudden movements to scare me, and I had to punch him to make him stop." She scooped up some ice cream and shoved it into her mouth. "He's very protective of you, and me, and kind of protective of the team too. If I've got this right, he thinks you guys keep him around just to make sure he doesn't go all wack and kill people, and he respects that. And he has a home because of that. Now, loyalty- whoa, this is really good. Mint Chocolate chip. Hm." Emma's eyes grazed the carton, shrugging as she took another spoonful. "Loyalty, I wouldn't know how to measure, and caring, well, he doesn't _not_ care. He can be kind if he tries. And he's a really good friend."

Steve bit back a tear.

"Yeah," he said, his voice not quite even. "He is."

Emma held out a spoon to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Thank you," he said softly. Emma scoffed.

"Dude, I know ice cream didn't exist in the forties, but that doesn't mean that it's some kind of ritualistic gift here. Ice cream is good, but not 'thank you' good," she said, shaking her head.

Steve knew that Emma knew exactly what he meant.

\---

When Bucky woke up, his arm was still there. He flexed his fingers, and found the plates shinier, and... Lighter?  
He sat up, blinking into the dim light. Stark's workshop. Right. 21 century. No target.

He heard a humming. A child's voice. He wet his lips, they felt dry, and swung his legs over the edge of the table. The humming stopped, and the chair swiveled around, displaying Emma, with her feet close to her body, nearly in a fetal position.

"Oh! Bucky! You're up!" she smiled. "How's your arm?"

He flexed his fingers, seeing them stretch and clench again.

"Lighter." She nodded.

"Yeah. Tony didn't take any of the weapons away though, he just made it lighter. I think he added something too. Like, a better way of touch? He would be here right now, but Steve basically dragged him upstairs. Told him he needed to rest. He can be really nit-picky about that."

Something flashed before Bucky's eyes. A small boy, blonde hair and blue eyes, blue as a summer sky, prodding him to eat. His leg own leg was in a cast. He didn't know why, but it just... Came to him.

"Bucky?" He shivered, and found his shirt on the table, neatly folded. Probably by Jane. She was kind and helpful. She and the god were a couple. He didn't find it repulsing, just... Strange. The same with Steve and Stark's relationship. How could two people, basically the opposite of each other, work together like that? Even worse, how were they supposed to have a relationship?

"Yeah doll?" he muttered, pulling his shirt over his head with ease. His arm felt the same, it was just how shiny it was that differed, and how light it was. Maybe Stark wasn't that bad after all.

"The change in weight can like, disorient you." He gave her a tired look, and she put her hands up in the air, signaling a surrender. That kind of confused him. "Just telling you. Before you topple and I have to catch you."

"Would you catch me?" he asked, carefully getting off the bench. Whoa. Walking was going to feel easier.

"Oh. Yeah. Totally. I'm not a lightweight, I could probably catch you." He raised an eyebrow her way.

"Has that expression changed since I was young? Do you mean what I think you do?"

"I don't think it's changed. But it's also used in boxing. So you know, take it the way you want to," she shrugged. Bucky smirked at her, and she grinned as she popped out of the chair.

"Let's go shoot shit!" she suggested. Bucky chuckled.

"You know, sometimes I think that you're just a smidge too overenthusiastic."

"Let's _go_!" Emma pressed, nearly dragging him out of there. She really was a sweet kid.

\---

That week passed brilliantly, and quickly. Steve and Tony did their cute couple thing, Clint and Natasha did their not-couple thing, Bruce was quiet, and Emma and Thor were loud. Bucky tried to be invisible, but was more or less dragged into the light, by both Emma and Steve. Jane and Darcy stayed the whole week, until it was time for them to go home. Emma and Darcy exchanged numbers, and hugged, and it was weirdly emotional for everyone. Darcy, being who she was, hugged Bucky, who kind of just stared numbly at her as she walked away, winking at him. 

Emma had burst out laughing and nudged him, and he hadn't even reacted.

Bucky hadn't told anyone anything, but sometimes he had flashbacks. Quick ones, little things that he didn't know he had ever done. Like when Emma and Tony had been arguing about something stupid, like what color was prettiest, and Tony just dropped to the floor, refusing to get up until she told him he was right. He remembered a similar argument with a little girl, she had dropped to the ground and told him he was wrong. The girl looked a little like Bucky did.

He probably should tell them. Since sometimes, it was Winter Solider flashbacks, and he would wake up, smash whatever was closest to him and grab a knife from underneath his pillows, and his gun. Yeah. Nightmares didn't do him good.

This was one of those nights, and he decided to go to the kitchen, not bothering to talk to Jarvis. He monitored him anyways.

When he reached the common room, and the kitchen, he saw, to his surprise, Barton sitting with his head in his hands by the kitchen island. He looked tired, dead tired, and sad.

Bucky fought his impulse to, as quietly as possible, get the hell out of there, and stepped in. Clint's head snapped up, tense. When he saw it was Bucky, he just nodded, and looked down again.

"Right. I thought it was Tash," he muttered to himself, and Bucky slid into the seat next to him.

"Why did you look scared then?" Bucky kind of regretted ever opening his mouth when Barton gave him this heartbroken look. Not because he made him sad, he didn't really care about that, because now Clint would whine and he would have to listen to it.

But to his surprise, Clint just bit his lip and shook his head.

"Nope. You haven't unlocked that level of friendship, Anakin." Bucky frowned.

"I'm not Anakin," he muttered under his breath. Clint smiled, just a little, and Bucky was taken aback. Maybe Emma's happy, comforting nature was rubbing off on him.

"You've seen Star Wars?" 

"Yeah. Emma made me watch it when you and Romanoff went MIA for a month," he said. Clint grimaced.

"Oh... Right..."

They both sat quietly again, when the elevatorbell dinged.

"Great, who else?" Clint mumbled under his breath when the doors slid apart, and Tony came in, rubbing his eyes and swallowing. He had a light sheen of sweat on his skin, even though he was just wearing a white tank top and shorts, but it was when Clint saw his eyes that he knew that Tony was in the kitchen for the same reason he was: PTSD.

In their line of work, it was kind of hard to avoid. Even Nat, with all her training in being a robot, still had it. And nightmares, that was nothing out of the ordinary in the Avengers tower. Tony didn't question their presence, his eyes looking dim.

"Hi Birdbrain. Popcicle," he muttered and grabbed a whiskey bottle from the cabinet on the wall.

"Put that down, Tony," Emma suddenly said, dropping down from the vent, landing gracefully on the kitchen island and popping the vent back. She smiled down at them, and slipped off the bench, grabbing some water. Her stomach was still rebelling from after her nightmare, and Clint gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Bad dreams?" Tony asked and took a swig of the bottle. Emma snapped her fingers at him, making a 'give me' motion with her hand. He sighed but handed her it, and she put it next to her, swallowing her water.

"Yeah. Seems like you guys had some bad dreams too," she remarked. "So, we're going to have a, what you guys would call, chick-flick moment: we're going to share. Tony, you first." Tony shook his head.

"Pass. Barton, do your sharing." Clint swallowed, ran a hand through his blond tousle of hair.

"Yeah, uh... I dreamt of this mission I can't talk about. But it was nasty. Lots of people died, including this-this one kid that wasn't even supposed to be there." His voice shook a little at the end, and he cleared his throat, swallowing. "Barnes. I pass you the invisible ball of sharing." He snagged the bottle of whiskey from Emma, who growled at him, but he ignored it, taking a swig.

Bucky wavered.

"I prefer not to," he said slowly. Emma snorted.

"Why, the whole 'I can't be vulnerable' thing?" she scoffed. "That's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard. Men's pride piss me off, honestly. You can have chick-flick moments. Your dick won't fall off. Plus, we are among friends. No excuse for not sharing. I'll tell you my bad dream if you all tell me yours. I know you'll all fall for it, because you care about me."

Well. If that didn't get the others trying to form words around their terrors, what did?

"I... Dreamt about once, when I was little," Bucky muttered, finally surrendering. Emma nodded, Clint didn't make a sound, and Tony's eyebrows rose just half an inch. "And me and Steve, I think at least, were playing outside. And then these other kids come and they start picking on him, and he tells them 'I don't like bullies'. And someone throws a punch, and then the dream switched to-to this mission where I made a man immobile and made him watch me kill his three daughters and his wife." They all stared in shock at him, but didn't say anything, and it was Tony who finally broke the silence.

"I dreamt about an endless void. A pit of darkness. No light whatsoever. Just... Darkness. Silence. But I can feel something clawing at me, gnawing on me, like I was a piece of meat," Tony said, running his hands over his ribs and his arc reactor, as if something was trying to eat him right now.

Emma nodded slowly.

"Yeah... See, did you guys die from that itty bit of sharing? No. Exactly. Sharing with each other is of vital importance in a team. I think Steve has said this, like, a bazillion times. Sharing shows trust, and I believe you boys were taught a lesson about that today, weren't you?" Neither of them responded at first, just staring at the bottle of whiskey, or their hands. Suddenly, Tony looked up, squinting at her.

"Hey, you little snake, tell us about your dream," Tony said.

"Yeah, hold up your end of the bargain," Clint said, and Bucky just raised his eyebrows. Emma shifted her jaw, sighing.

"Fine." She straightened up, took a breath. "In the circus, there was this really big guy, who was really strong and big, and always happy. He was very nice, and when I had just... Gotten there, I was fresh meat. I was jailbait. I was the new kid, and, in the circus, that doesn't mean that you get picked on. I was just... Another little girl trying to get away from my parents. Or so they thought. I, uh, didn't really hit it off that well with anybody the first few days, but that guy, he was really nice to me. And it felt nice. So one night, when it was dark, and it was one day before we were supposed to travel to the next city, the nice guy finds me huddling behind one of the wagons, freezing. Nobody liked me yet so they didn't take me in. He smelled like monkey shit and booze, and he more or less just... Thought I was his wife." She shook her head, laughing a little, and crossed her arms around his chest. "He tried to get me. Tore my pants off. And I... I snapped his neck."

Bucky's fist was clenched under the table, and Tony's jaw was clenched, Clint's eyes were narrowed.

"Good," Tony decided. Emma swallowed.

"Yeah, well, it still haunts me years later, so, I don't know how good it was," she muttered.

"What happened after that?" Clint asked.

"Where did you hide the body?" Bucky asked. Emma smiled.

"I didn't. This other guy, that I had been arguing with since my first day there, he saw me. He heard me scream, and when he got there, I had snapped the guys neck. He just stared at me, chuckled, and told me I reminded him of his little brother. He promised that he would hide the body, and he did." Tony squinted at her.

"You're telling me that a full-grown man saw a, what, maybe ten year old girl snap a big burly guy's neck, and helped her hide the body? No questions asked?" he asked. Clint scoffed.

"You've obviously never been to the circus," he muttered. "Carnies are fucking crazy. The only reason they let kids join, is because at almost every stop, they lose someone," he muttered. "This guy that helped you... Was that Charlie?"

Emma nodded, smiling at the mention of Charlie's name.

"Yeah. It was."

"Who's Charlie?" Tony asked.

"This guy I used to know." The smile faded from Emma's features, and she bit her lip. "He left me."

"Oh." Even Tony didn't know what to say to that. There was complete silence in the room for a few moments.

"Clint?" she said suddenly, tilting her head thoughtfully. Clint looked up from the bottle in his hands.

"Hm?"

"Do you know how to braid?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"No..." he said slowly. Tony snorted. "What, Stark? Do _you_ know how to braid?"

"Yeah, it's easy," he scoffed.

"At ease, this isn't a dick measuring contest, it's a braiding contest," Emma said calmly. "Well, my hair is too short to do any kind of braiding, really, so... Bucky?"

"Oh no, I'm not letting you do that," Bucky said, shaking his head. Emma pouted.

"Pleeeeeeease," she whined, climbing up on the kitchen island again. "I've done it before, your hair is just really really soft! We'll just let Tony braid one side of your hair, and Clint the other, and I'll be the judge on who braids the best!"

Bucky sighed, shaking his head at her puppy eyes. Wow, when did he get sentimental enough to heed to a little girl's eyes? He had to fix that.

But... It was nice, getting your hair braided. It was comforting, and fuck it, he really needed to go down to a range and shoot something after this to stop feeling like such a sissy.

"Fine," he muttered, and Emma squealed in delight.

The competition was short and filled with laughter and tugging of hair, and pinching of the contestants, but it was nice. Emma loved it, and when Bucky finally had two braids in his hair, he was sleepy. Emma suggested that he could sleep on the floor and freak whomever came down first in the morning the fuck out.

He decided to do just that, and fell asleep on the floor underneath the kitchen island. Emma, Tony, and Clint climbed on top of it, sharing a tub of ice cream. With Pop Rocks in it. It was delicious.

Clint sighed, smiling as Emma wiped away some ice cream from his nose.

"You would make a great nightlight, Tony," Emma pointed out. Tony hummed.

"Oh yeah? Steve says I am, too," he mumbled, licking his spoon. With the sharing of food that went on in this tower, she was surprised none of them got sick. "All the kids like it too, like when I go to hospitals and do charity stuff." 

Clint swallowed hard, biting his lip. Emma didn't notice. Neither did Tony.

"Oh, cool, you guys do that?" she said, and Tony nodded.

"Yup. It's usually just me and Steve, since Natasha can't really handle kids, and has this intimidating vibe, that just oozes 'I can snap your neck whenever'. Kids don't usually like that. And Bruce is kind of scared of hulking out in a hospital with sick children around. Sometimes Clint-"

Clint slammed his fist into the stone surface they were sitting on, and hissed

"Stop talking about hospitals, Iron Ass!"

Emma's eyebrows shot up, and Tony looked confused.

"Dude... That's what the mission was about, wasn't it?" Emma said slowly. "There was a hospital. A children's hosptial. Right?" Clint ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah...." he said, his voice broken. "Yeah... There was, and... We thought they evacuated the place, but they'd just left this kid there, this tiny little boy, and-" His voice cracked. Tony closed his eyes.

"You couldn't save him," he finished. Clint shook his head slowly. Tony sighed quietly. "I'll tell you what, I'm giving you a one-time only offer: You get to build your nest in the kitchen."

Clint looked up at him, swallowing.

"That sound good?" Tony asked. Clint nodded, barely noticeable, and scrambled off the counter, disappearing into the common room. He soon came back, dropping all the pillows on the countertop, and somehow managed to get on top of the huge fridge. He motioned for Tony to throw him the pillows and blankets, and Tony did, one after one.

Clint made himself a nest on top of the fridge, just like he had many times before, and draped a blanket over himself. He had liked the silent humming of the fridge before; now it just felt like a buzz in his hearing aids. He decided that he was safe enough to turn them off, and he removed them too, enjoying the feeling of absolutely nothing in his ears. Like it used to be.

"So... Does that happen often?" Emma asked softly. Tony shrugged.

"Sometimes he just builds a nest where he feels like it. Once, he did it in the elevator," Tony said. Emma smiled.

"That's adorable," she mumbled. Tony snorted.

"No, especially not when Pepper almost stepped on his thigh with her killer heels."

Emma laughed quietly.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"No, uh... It's kind of touchy, I think," Emma said quietly. Tony hummed, scooped up another mouthful.

"When have you ever been tactile about touchy subjects?" She smiled.

"Well... I've been thinking," she said quietly. "Since you and Steve are engaged... Are you ever going to have kids?" Tony stilled.

"I-uh, I haven't really thought about that," he lied, flashed his PR smile, and Emma smacked his arm. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"Don't block me out like that. Geeze, how does Steve get through all that thick-plated armor of yours?" Tony huffed.

"Well, he does have his ways, sex being one of them," he said, smiling. Emma gagged. "He makes that noise too."

"Tony!" Emma laughed. "Stop it."

"Right, you're way too young for sex jokes. Romanoff will have my ass for that one." She rolled her eyes.

"Just, in case you're having doubts about it, you'd be an awesome dad. Take your shirt off." He raised an eyebrow.

"Honey, I'm taken," he said gently. Emma rolled her eyes again.

"Do it." He sighed and took his shirt off, threw it on the floor. Emma's eyes widened. "Whoa..." Emma's soft fingertips grazed the scarred skin around the arc reactor, completely mesmerized.

"Yup, I've lived here for two and a half months, and I am still fangirling," she mumbled to herself, her eyes wide as her palm splayed over the arc reactor. She played with the light like a little kid, making little figures and drumming her fingers over the plate.

"Tony, I know it's three a.m., but do you mind explaining why Bucky is sleeping with _braids_ in his hair on the kitchen floor? And why is Clint asleep in a nest of pillows on the top of the fridge? And _why_ is Emma playing with your chest?" Steve asked, dragging his hands over his face. When he had gotten there, they didn't know.

"Uh... Bucky's hair was soft, Clint learned how to braid, Clint had a small mental breakdown, we comforted him, Bucky hadn't slept in days, and apparently, I would make a great nightlight?" Tony explained, looking at his fiance a little uncertainly. Seeing Tony Stark uncertain was very unusual, and Emma's hands slid off his chest at the sight, went to the almost empty and half melted tub of ice cream in front of her crossed legs.

Steve gave him a soft smile.

"Did everybody have bad dreams?" he asked carefully, moving to the counter and leaning against it. He pressed a kiss to Tony's temple, running a hand through his chaotic mop of dark hair. Tony leaned into the touch like a cat, probably purring too.

"Yeah," he sighed, and scooted over so that he could lean on Steve's chest, nuzzle his neck.

"You should have woken me up," Steve chastised gently, leaning his cheek to Tony's head.

"I thought it would be fine if I grabbed something to eat, so I went down here and met the mopey crew."

"Clint and Bucky, that is," Emma said, swallowing a chunk of ice cream as big as her fist. Steve's look darkened.

"Oh? What did they dream about?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"Bucky's been having flashbacks," Tony said sleepily, the hum of Steve's voice and his scent putting the genius to sleep.

"Yeah. He dreamt about you and him standing up to bullies," she said softly. "But then it turned bloody. To the Winter Solider." Steve sighed into his lover's hair.

"Yeah. It all seems to circle back to that." Tony's eyelids were dropping shut. "Tony? Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm..." He patted Steve's chest. "Use some of that gorgeous super solider muscle and carry me upstairs." Steve chuckled, gave Emma a stern glare.

"Fine. But Emma? You should go to sleep too," he said, making Tony wrap his arms around his neck and his legs around Steve's waist.

"Yeah. I know," she said softly. "I'll do it in just a minute. You guys head up." Steve nodded, and Tony mumbled a goodnight, before they were off.

Emma just sat there, on the counter. She looked up at the fridge, where Clint was sleeping, and down on the floor, to where Bucky was sleeping.

For once, since she was eight, she didn't feel like she didn't belong. She was a freak, yeah, but she was a freak with pride. Like these people. Emma was a freaky geek, a dangerous one, and with the Avengers, she felt like she could be the freaky geek she really was.

Emma was beginning to feel at home.

And boy, was that a new sensation.

\---


	16. Warningbells And Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been stuck on how to get the story into the way I wanted it to be, so, next chapter will probably be vv chaotic to make everything fit.  
> Anyhow, enjoy this short chapter!

 

When Natasha found Clint on top of the fridge the next morning, and Bucky on the floor, she almost laughed. Clint's favorite place to perch was that dumb fridge, he loved the calming humming sound it produced. She wondered if it was still the same for him now, with the hearing aids and all.

Tony had forbidden him to perch up there. How he reasoned was that it was 'unsanitary' and 'unnecessarily close to all the knifes, Barton, is that a knife in your sock'.

As she climbed on top of the fridge, she was secretively proud that she was the only one allowed in his nests, and saw that his hearing aids were out. Clint would hate that he hadn't heard her get up there. Natasha gently shook him, and his eyes snapped open, confused and blurry.

"Oh. Hi Nat," he muttered, closed his eyes again and twisted underneath the blankets. She tapped his shoulder, and he opened one eye, narrowed though. "What?"

" **Why are you asleep on the fridge**?" she signed. She left the 'Tony will be pissed' part out.

"Oh. Tony gave me a one time offer to sleep up here," Clint muttered, finding his hearing aids and turning them on. He pressed them into his ears, sighing as he heard his own breath and Natasha's mingle again.

"You should tell them," she said softly, tucking her cold feet under the warm blanket that Clint had used as a cover from the cool air in the kitchen.

"Tell them what? That I'm crippled?" he muttered. Natasha scowled.

"That you were stabbed. Through the ears. With your own arrows." She tilted her head mournfully. "I haven't seen you pick up your bow since we got back."

Clint frowned at her.

"I haven't needed to."

"Clint..."

"Natasha, no," the archer sighed. "I'm... I'm not going to."

"It doesn't have to be today. It doesn't have to be this week. It doesn't even have to be this month. But you have to do it someday."

Suddenly, the alarm started blaring, and Bucky shot up from the floor, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

"Preferably today," Natasha said as she hopped off the fridge, landing like a cat. "Bucky, at ease, it's not for you. This is not my line, but Avengers, assemble!"

\---

"Go, guys, go!" Clint argued as Tony boosted off the roof and into the air. Hulk was almost a block away already, he didn't really care if he left Clint behind in the tower. "Someone needs to watch the kid, go!"

"I can't argue with that logic," Tony admitted, and blasted off. Natasha frowned, but followed suit, on one of those floaty scooters that Clint loved to ride so much. Steve dragged his cowl over his face, nodding.

"Stay safe!" he called as he wooshed away.

"We shall miss you in battle, nimble archer!" Thor said as he began swinging his hammer quickly, making clouds gather as he lifted off the ground.

"Yeah, yeah, bye big guy- what the hell does nimble mean?" Clint asked Emma, standing next to him.

"Uuuh, I want to say 'very good with your hands'? I'm not sure that's the actual definition," she said, watched as the incomplete Avengers flew off in the morning sun. "So tell me the truth."

"About what? I've been very honest with you," Clint said defensively, and stopped his hands from reflexively going to his ears.

"No. You're not staying behind to 'watch the kid'," Emma said, making quotation marks for emphasis. "You're staying behind for something else. Tell me."

Clint sighed.

"Nah. You'll treat me differently."

"Because you don't want to go on a mission? Totally not," Emma said, frowning. "I get that you don't want to go, I just don't get why." He ran a hand through his hair and started walking toward the elevator doors.

"Doesn't matter, kid!" he called behind himself.

"Natasha said you'd be different!" Emma called after him. He stopped dead in his tracks, and she repressed her smirk as he turned around slowly.

"She said what now?" he asked, his tone displaying no emotion. Emma decided to grab that thread and pull, _hard_.

"That you were hurt. That you wouldn't be the same. What happened to you on that mission, Clint?" she asked him softly. He swallowed hard.

Jarvis didn't record audio from the roof. Emma wasn't the kind of girl to treat him differently for something that nobody had yet noticed.

"I turned deaf."

The words were out before he could stop himself, and Emma's eyes widened.

"What?" she whispered, barely audible. He swallowed really hard this time.

"I was stabbed through my ears with two of my arrows. It left permanent damage that the doctors couldn't do anything about. So I'm deaf," Clint said, his voice now monotone.

Before he could utter another word, Emma tackled him in a hug, nearly crushing his ribs and stealing his breath.

"Oh, wowza, what a grip," Clint breathed. Emma let him go, making a face.

"Sorry. Get down here!" she exclaimed, and grabbed his face, turning it to the side. "Oh, my, God, you have hearing aids! Jesus fuck! I didn't know.... You..." She took a deep breath. "Right. Calm. Who knows about this?"

"Natasha, Coulson, me, you, and the guy that did it. Some doctors too." Emma raised an eyebrow.

"You lost one of your senses, and you didn't tell the team? _Dude_. That is low."

"I-I just don't want to be of even less value than I already am," Clint said, brushing off the fact that that was basically what Natasha had told him. Emma blinked.

"That's ridiculous! You need to tell them!" she said, still with her hands on his cheeks. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows at him. "You're of very much worth to the team. They care about you. They're your friends. You need to trust them." She gave his cheek a brief kiss, and patted his other cheek. "Come on Barton. Let's make cookies whilst the others save New York."

\---

Yeah. Emma was awesome. She didn't treat him any different when she found out. She didn't speak louder or slower, or stare at him. She continued like nothing happened. Except for maybe hugging him more. He didn't really get that part, but she was still a kid, and kids needed hugs. So he supplied them.

The others came back pretty quickly, no one had gotten injured that badly, Nat just had a few scratches, and so did Tony's suit.

Later that night, after dinner, Natasha grabbed his arm, and dragged him into the elevator, leaving the others. His heartbeat picked up, of course she wasn't going to make a move on him, she didn't feel for him like he did her. He knew that. So when the elevator stopped on the floor with the shooting ranges, he knew exactly what she was trying to do.

"No, Nat, please," Clint groaned when she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the door.

"Please Clint," Natasha said as she stopped, and they were standing in front of each other, her green eyes pleading. "You haven't picked up your bow in a month. And a _half_. The last time you were hurt, you got out of bed after two days and began shooting again."

"Yeah, well, this is a different kind of injury," Clint snapped, and hurt flickered over her unguarded features. It quickly washed away, and she looked pleading again, but Clint could still feel self-loathing for making her feel that way, if even for a second.

"Clint..." she sighed. "Just hold it. You can hold it. It won't kill you to hold it. Please? For the fate of the world."

"No pressure," Clint scoffed, and she smiled at him, a small smile. She took his joke as a yes, and pulled him in there. He walked after her, and she pulled his bow off the wall. She grabbed the string and yanked it off it, more correctly, and it did just what she wanted it to do.

Clint's sharp intake of breath could slice a limb off, and reflexively he reached out to grab his bow from her incompetent hands.

"Ssh, baby, she didn't mean to hurt you," he said as his fingers latched around the familiar item. Clint almost dropped it, but instead he squinted up at Natasha. "You sneaky little...." He huffed out a sigh, but thumbed the string, chuckling. She smiled back at him.

"How does it feel?" Nat asked. He positioned himself, imagining the arrow as he pulled his bow. His muscles relaxed.

"Honestly?" He tried aiming, but the room seemed to be bending at the edges, and he quickly unfocused. "A little trauma and a little spike of whoa." Natasha handed him a quiver, with a quiet question on her pretty face.

Clint sighed loudly, but took it, and her smile widened as she crossed her arms across her chest. He slung it over his shoulder, and pulled an arrow, nocking it.

The motion was so familiar and oddly comforting, and he aimed for one of the boards, hoping to at least hit it. Clint would have been lying to himself if he thought he could hit it.

His head began hurting, because he had to focus, and instead of shooting, he pulled back, shook his head.

"Nat, I can't," he said, his jaw clenched and his voice quivering. Fuck, he kept on crying all the time since he lost his hearing. She placed a warm hand on his back.

"That's okay," she said quietly. "You've come far today. Take your bow up with you?"

He nodded and slung his quiver off, but ran his fingers over his favorite bow. Natasha let him put his arm around her shoulders. She was nice like that when it came to Clint.

\---


	17. Lasanga And Explosions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo, here we go!

 

"Ready?" Emma asked, grinning from ear to ear. She had been in the gym, punching and stretching when Natasha had walked in. How they ended up on the sparring mat, well, that may have been Emma's pride talking. 

However, Natasha was going to take this as a playfight untill Emma caught her off-guard. She was kind of looking forward to that.

"Ready as ever," Natasha said. And then she launched at Emma with a swift kick that Emma blocked and her knuckles made contact with Natasha's ribs, with enough force to make her waiver just a little.

The thing that surprised Natasha after just a few blows, was Emma's fighting style. It was like fighting Clint, only a smaller and much sleeker Clint. How Emma managed to put as much force into her blows as Clint could was even more confusing. Granted, she made some rookie mistakes that Clint never would, and one of those mistakes cost her the victory.

Natasha grabbed her small leg and bent it, making Emma fall to her knees, and Natasha's hands found Emma's wrists as she pushed her down on the ground, pinning her arms down with her knees and holding her legs in her armpits. Granted, it looked strange, but it was effective. Emma stopped squirming, out of breath.

"You win," she groaned, and Natasha smiled, getting up. Emma stayed down, groaned as she literally felt the adrenaline pump in her veins. "Fuck, I love sparring."

"You fight like Clint does," Natasha remarked, and Emma rolled over on her back. She was sure she had bruises beginning to form. She hadn't even felt this worn out when she fought Steve! Damn, Natasha really was good. 

"Thanks?" Emma said, confused. 

"I mean that your fighting style is very similar," Natasha said, and threw her a towel. Emma wiped away some sweat from her face, gave Natasha a wide grin.

"I don't know, dude, maybe it's just the whole carnie thing," she shrugged. "I was taught how to fight for real at the circus. I had a hum before that, but I was mostly taught at the circus. If he did the same, then I assume all carnies fight the same?"

"No, you must have been taught by someone with the same structure and agility," Natasha murmured to herself. "You're pretty stretchy. You should use that more."

"I should? How?" Emma asked as she sat up, running a hand through her messy red hair. Natasha smiled.

"Well. I could teach you a thing or two about that."

\---

When Clint slipped into the trainingroom, he did not expect to see what he was seeing.

Natasha had her legs wrapped around Bucky's neck, and she was _giggling_. Emma was looking at Bucky and Natasha, looking very interested by the way, taking in the way that Nat's leg curved around Bucky's airpipe.

"I don't know if I should be petrified or turned on," Clint remarked out loud before he could stop himself, and Nat looked up from Bucky's face, glaring at him. "Hi Nat."

"Hi Clint," she said, and Bucky cleared his throat when Natasha stood up. Emma bit back a grin, because if even Bucky picked up on the tension between them, well, then there was really something there.

Bucky almost blushed, although Natasha had shown Emma how to strangle someone with your thighs, he still felt like he had been doing something he shouldn't. Barton was very protective of Romanoff, he didn't really get why, she was more than qualified to take care of herself. Maybe they were in one of those secret relationships Emma said existed in almost every tv-show.

"Did you come down here to shoot?" Natasha asked, maybe a little hopeful. Clint shook his head.

"Nah. Steve's making dinner. He told me to tell you to clean up," Clint said.

"Well, Bucky could-" Emma began, but Bucky shook his head.

"Not today, doll," he said, and she stopped talking.

"Okay. Yeah. Uh, I have my stuff down here, so I should shower," she said instead, and helped Bucky to his feet.

"I don't, so I'll come with you upstairs," Natasha offered Clint. He nodded, and she walked off the mat gracefully, smiling. "Come on, Hawkeye."

Bucky disappeared, and Emma took a shower, touching the sore spots on her body tenderly. After she had dressed, she took the elevator up to the common floor.

When the doors opened, her nostrils were filled with the glorious smell of lasagna.

"Aaah, that smells really good, Steve!" Emma said happily as she walked into the kitchen, saw Steve getting plates from a cabinet. "Oh my god, tell me that's garlic bread..."

"That is indeed garlic bread," Steve smiled. "Dinner is almost done, Tony's on his way home from a press conference, do you mind helping me with something?" She shrugged.

"Not at all. What do you want me to do?" Emma said nonchalantly.

"Help me cut that," Steve said and pointed to a little cuttingboard with cucumber on it, and Emma took the knife, began cutting.

Suddenly, she yelped, and made a noise of pain.

"Fuck," she hissed, and Steve turned around quickly.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he said, grabbing her hand.

"Shit, I cut myself," she groaned, and Steve saw a small cut. He smiled gently.

"Want me to get a band-aid?"

"Nah, it'll be fine in a second," she said and batted his hands off her. Steve frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She began chopping again, avoiding his eyes.

"Small cuts like that stop hurting quickly," she shrugged.

"Let me see your hand," Steve said, carefully took her hand. He gasped.

The cut was gone.

"See? Nothing to worry about," Emma said, smiling nervously. Her smile fell when she saw Steve's confused look. "What?"

"That's not supposed to happen," he said slowly. Fear came onto her features. "It's not normal to heal that fast. _I_ don't even heal that fast." He thought back to her head wound, the one she had aquired in Infernos grasp. There should at least be a mark from that. Shouldn't there? "Let me see your head."

"No!" Emma exclaimed and batted his hands away, raised the knife. Steve put his hands in the air.

"It's okay," he said, trying to remain calm as his eyes met Emma's. She swallowed. This always, always happened. She hurt herself, and someone noticed when it healed, and they remarked that it wasn't supposed to happen. Yeah, no shit Sherlock, she knew that.

Fucking _hell_.

"It's not," she said, and backed away. She heard Tony's beloved coffee machine start to rattle, and Steve's eyes darted over to it for one second. Why was it making such noise?

Emmas hands started shaking. Of course everything had to happen right fucking now. When she had learned to feel a little bit at home. When she knew what was on every floor. When she had found a friend in every hero she had never thought she would even see up close. Great. Just fucking great.

She dropped the knife with a clatter, and the glass that Steve had just placed on the counter shattered, glass shards flying everywhere. Neither of them had touched it. Emma decided that this was indeed the time to run, and dashed for the huge window, breaking it in one go, and great, she was falling, but she knew the terrace was only two floors down.

Once, in the circus, she fell from the line when she was high up above the ground. She had broken three ribs, and had a paralyzing fear of getting back up there. Two weeks later, she was up there again, smiling and playing on the line as if she had never left it. It kind of felt the same, crashing from two stories. But this time she knew what to do.

As soon as her fingers felt ground, she curled and coiled, doing a gracious flip and gaining speed as she did so. So she took off in a run, dashing into Pepper apartment. Pepper was in a conference call, she knew that, and Tony was out, which meant that Happy was with him. So she ran over to the vents, prayed that Clint had popped this vent already.

He had. She had never loved Clint Barton and his strange obsession more.

Once inside the vent, she could breathe. She had fucked up. Like, big time. She hated this. Wherever she went, this happened since that goddamned place when she was nine. After the very nice lesbian couple, that godforsaken institution had come along.

Emma couldn't remember shit from that year. Nothing. It was like her mind had that year wiped out of existence. She couldn't find that institution anywhere on any list. She was probably brainwashed, and now she healed quick as hell and could make stuff explode with her mind. Like a fucking freak.

Slowly she began to crawl through the vents, up three floors, until she heard soft talking from one of the gratings. She stopped as she peeked down. She was leaving, she might as well eavesdrop.

What she saw warmed her heart.

Natasha was rubbing her thumbs over Clint's shoulders, and he had his hearing aids out, lying on the floor in front of him. He looked strangely calm. At least she left something good behind this time, instead of a huge fucking hole in the wall.

"I hate to disturb," Jarvis suddenly spoke up, and Natasha motioned for Clint to put his hearing aids back in. The relaxed situation disappeared completely as both agents looked up. "But there seems to be an emergency."

"Seems?" Clint said, already standing up with Natasha behind him, grabbing her guns.

"Yes," Jarvis said thoughtfully. "I'm not entirely sure there is."

"What kind of a threat analyzer are you?" Clint scoffed.

"It is regarding miss Emma," Jarvis offered. "She just jumped out of the common area's kitchen window, and is currently somewhere in the vents." Surveillance from the kitchen flashed up, and now she had to keep moving, because they were going to kill her.

Well. She would be killed by her greatest heroes. That's got to be a plus.

She waited for them to leave, which they did, looking uncertain. She popped the vent, and dropped with it, wincing at the pain in one of her wrists. She had to act quick.

Emma ran to her room, grabbing a backpack and shoving some clothes in, grabbing a hoodie. After a second of consideration, she pulled one of the drawings on her wall off, folding it into her pocket, and began _running_. She was up in the vents again when she heard Clint's cursing coming from outside Natasha's room. Thank god, she had barricaded the door.

So she crawled frantically.

Dropping through tight spaces, crawling fast, she came to the back of the tower. Finally, she could breathe air again, and she was walking down the street, hoodie pulled down over her face. Not that anyone would recognize her.

The adrenaline kick began to fade, and Emma had to slow down, because she couldn't _breathe_.

Suddenly, she heard a very familiar noise. The Iron Man suits boosters. So, she took a sharp turn into an alley, and began running. Again. It was amazing that after three months in captivity, and two and a half months of laying around, her stamina hadn't dropped into the gutter. She could probably hijack something, get out of town before-

"Emma, wait!" she could hear Steve call after her, but she couldn't stop, as she saw a fence, she took the chance, jumping against the wall and swinging over it with only a slight wince.

She was met with a calm Bruce, standing there with his hands out, stopping her from going any further.

" _Fuck_ ," she breathed as she pushed herself back against the fence. Iron Man and Captain America joined the party, boosting over the fence. Only Tony was actually in costume, Steve just had his shield on his back, but nobody moved.

Then Hawkeye and the Black Widow dropped down from a balcony.

And Emma was trapped.

They didn't stand that close to her, they gave her lots of breathing space, but she could still feel the walls closing in on her. Nobody said anything for a while.

"Kill it. That's always what I've heard," Emma laughed suddenly, her voice breathless and that _weird_ tone that was joking but laced with such seriousness. "Kill it, before it tears the place down. Shoot it. That's what you're all thinking. Isn't it?"  
Everybody just stood there, shocked. Confused.

"Do it. Kill it," she said, quietly. Nobody said anything still. And then Natasha held her guns up in the air, locking eyes with Emma before putting the guns on the ground. 

Slowly, she began taking a few steps forward, making Emma cringe further back. Tony groaned.

"Shit, Romanoff, stop walking, she's going to pop my suit," he grunted. And that made her panic even more, and she could hear the armor creaking, and Steve looked horrified.

"Breathe, Emma," Natasha said without even taking a second to glance at Tony. Emma took a deep breath, and grabbed the necklace from her pocket, fiddled with it. The suit stopped creaking.

And then it fell off.

Piece by piece, it was dropping off Tony, and Emma was staring at Natasha as it did, quivering. Everybody else was staring at Tony, standing there in shock as his armour crashed to the alley asphalt with a loud clanging.

"Whoa. I feel naked," Tony remarked, standing there in his black undersuit. 

"How are you doing that?" Bruce asked, sounded curious.

"I don't know," Emma whimpered. "Okay, I have no fucking clue, but this always always happens, and I should have fled before I got attached, attachment makes you weak..." At that, both Clint and Natasha tensed up.

Those words were words that Natasha had spoken many times in the beginning of their partnership. The words of her trainers.

"Emma, you need to let us help you," Natasha said, holding her hands out in what seemed like a hug-like gesture. Emma looked shocked.

"You can't help me," she said, laughed a laugh that sounded insane, even in her own ears. "Nobody can. It happens every time. It hasn't stopped. I need to get away from civilization. Alone. I work best alone, anyways. Charlie knew that."

"Why did Charlie leave?" Clint asked suddenly.

"Because I made one of the trailers explode," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "I couldn't help it, I didn't do it on purpose-" A sob wrecked her body, and she shook her head, shaking the tears away. "Fuck."

"When does it happen?" Bruce asked, quietly. Emma took a deep breath, still pressing against the fence, the brick wall not enough to stabilize her wrecked being. Her nails were digging into the red rocks behind her, and she had to stop crying, like, right now. She shouldn't be crying this much, why couldn't she stop crying?

"When I hurt myself. And it heals. And-and they start asking, and saying that isn't supposed to happen, and I panic, because they're going to get rid of me again, and I can't handle that." She rubbed her eyes, tried to get rid of the stinging tears.

"It's okay. Really. Think of one of us and call us normal," Bruce continued. "It doesn't fit, does it?" Emma shook her head slowly. "I think it's great that you're with us. Because otherwise you would have fled your new family. Wouldn't you?" Emma nodded carefully. "We can fix this. Help you control it. If you let us help you."

"Okay," she said, her voice small. And Natasha reached her arms out again, and Emma took two slow steps before she was wrapped up in Natasha's arms, shaking.

\---


	18. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanations, explanations!  
> I just want to alert you all, that I have not yet seen Age of Ultron. I'm to much of a Clintasha shipper to be able to see it, tbh. I can't imagine Clint actually having a family and shit, and from what I can tell, they turned Nat into this totally love-sick typical female character, which is sad because she doesn't need any love interest to be interesting. Plus, I'm not a fan of Brucenat. Like, not at all. Sorry guys.  
> Anyhow, that means this story is AU, sadly enough. If you couldn't tell already.  
> Enjoy your reading!

 

 "I think it's a defense mechanism," Bruce announced. Clint hummed.

"Makes sense. Panic. Being caught. Making things explode seems like a pretty good defense mechanism to me," he said. Bruce shrugged.

"We don't even know her last name. Searching for her in a SHIELD database is kind of useless until we know her full name," Tony pointed out. 

"I'm not telling you my last name," Emma said stubbornly from Natasha's arms. Natasha was stroking her hair, and Clint couldn't help but wonder how Natasha would look like holding their child like that... He quickly snapped back to the present. Whoa. Where had that thought come from? Right out of left field.

"Em, we want to help you," Natasha said softly. "Tell us." Emma frowned, looked conflicted.

"Okay. I'll tell Bucky," she said slowly. Steve looked up.

"What? Why not any of us?" he asked. Emma just shook her head stubbornly.

"Only Bucky." 

"You know, sometimes I wish you weren't stubborn like me," Tony sighed. "Jarvis, can you get Bucky?"

"Sergeant Barnes does not wish to be disturbed, Sir," Jarvis informed him.

"Tell him it's about me!" Emma said, stared up at the ceiling. Jarvis was silent for a moment.

"Sergeant Barnes is on his way." Emma grinned.

"I like his humor. And his arm. He's a hugger, and a skilled one at that."

"He-he has hugged you?" Steve asked, and everybody looked shocked.

"Whoa. What a mental picture," Clint muttered, and Natasha smacked the back of his head with her palm.

"Stop it," she mumbled under her breath. The elevator dinged, and Bucky came barging in, in a plain black t-shirt, and shorts, with his hair up. He looked like he just got out of bed. Well, his schedule was pretty fucked up, sleeping whilst they were supposed to be eating, staying up in the night. Steve would have to talk to him about that.

"Emma?" he said, and she ripped from Natasha's grip, ran over to him and tackled him in a hug. Bucky's metal arm wrapped around her, and he sank back on his heels, crouching to look at her. "Are you okay?" he asked, and gave her hair a quick, almost distant brush of comfort.

The Avengers just stared at him in shock.

He'd always been nicer to Emma, but this was Bucky being _gentle_. And _worried_.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," she said, and he looked her over, searched for wounds. "Look, they need my last name... And I don't want to tell them. So I'm going to tell you, and you are going to type it into the computer, and they are not going to look, okay?" He seemed to have deduced that she was not in any danger, and frowned slightly.

"You really hate your last name that much?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. Emma shrugged.

"Yeah. You in?" He nodded, and she leaned forward, whispered something into his ear. Bucky basically went rigid. Stiffly, he stood up, walked over to Bruce computer, and Emma bit her lip when the others looked away.

"Found her," Bucky suddenly said. He let out a snort that sounded almost like a laugh. "Damn. What a criminal record."

"Jarvis, block out my name in all the files," Emma said, and her name was black-lined on the screen. "Thank you. You may all look."

Bucky was almost smiling as he skimmed the information, and Tony started laughing.

"Whoa! We got ourselves a little crook here," he chuckled, and Emma started fidgeting with her necklace.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," she blushed, didn't look at anybody.

Bruce eyebrows crinkled as he read the info. Clint was looking at her criminal record. Stealing, mostly. Some B & E, pick-pocketing in different cities, being bailed out by a C.B.B.

"You were sent to an institute for misunderstood children," he said slowly, and Emma's hands clenched. Bucky was standing next to Steve, just on his guard. But a little less than usual, and that made Steve's heart melt.

"I was," Emma said, and she crossed her arms against her chest, looked a little threatening. Well, not compared to the Avengers, or Bucky, but for someone her age and who was usually innocent looking, she looked dangerous.

"What institution?" Bruce asked. Emma's face went impressively blank.

"I don't know," she said, her voice steady and calm. Everyone in the room looked at the small girl, usually so filled with life, shut down in every way possible, and the silence turned to stunned silence.

"You don't know the name?"

"No."

"Emma, how much do you remember from that year?" Natasha suddenly asked, a horrible idea sparking in her mind. Emma didn't say anything. "Emma," Natasha said sternly. Emma's jaw clenched.

"I remember busting my ass out of there. And needles. Lots and lots of needles," she muttered.

"Where was the institute?" Natasha asked again, biting back anger and feeling strangely protective of the girl. Maybe even a little... Maternal?

"I don't know," Emma sighed loudly. "All I remember is a very extreme urge to get the fuck out of there, and then there was a huge fucking blast, and the wall opened, and my eyes hurt, but I had to get out of there, so I did."

"It says the institute blew up. Numerous blasts went off," Bruce said, scrolling through the info. Emma huffed out a laugh.

"I just snapped once. I must have started a chain reaction. Fucking cool."

"This explains the creepy, cat like walking you can do, sneak around," Clint said. "And why you can blow stuff up with your mind, totally awesome superpower by the way, and, let's not forget that you're basically as smart as Tony."

"Hey," Tony said, sounded offended. "This is all Stark quality, I didn't appear out of a needle-filled institute with all my smartness. This is au naturale." Steve rolled his eyes, but grabbed Tony from behind, pulled him into a hug, with Tony's back against his stomach.

"Hush," he mumbled into Tony's ear, and Tony swallowed hard, but shut up.

"No survivors found on the scene. All deceased were small girls, ages seven through ten, nine out of sixteen buried in the basement. The other seven were in small rooms, where walls had collapsed in and killed them. The records said that there was supposed to be two more. One was found buried next to a tree," Bruce continued. Emma's throat swelled up.

"Fuck... Christy," she breathed, and suddenly flashes cascaded through her mind, her hands being tied behind her back, running over the grass, her bones just burning from the inside out, and throwing up behind a tree, a newly dug grave just by it. Christy. "I-I'm not even fucking fourteen yet, I'm not supposed to have to deal with this..." she whispered, and before Natasha could wrap her arms around the small girl falling apart, Bucky did.

"It's okay, doll," he hushed as his arms tightened around her small shoulders. Because, if anyone, Bucky understood what it was like to have your memories taken away, being altered in every way possible. Emma was sobbing into his chest and soon he just picked her up all together, and held her lightly. Emma's hands were clasped around his neck, and to the Avengers, it looked way too casual to not have happened before.

Before Tony could comment on it, however, Steve clasped a hand over Tony's mouth, shaking his head at him. He had never seen Bucky, after being the Winter Solider, being so affectionate with someone. Not even with him. And it made him a little jealous, but he let it slide, because Emma had obviously not dealt with this before.

"Shit, no, Emma, we don't cry in front of anyone," he could hear her whisper as she straightened up in Bucky's arms, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist. "Especially not your heroes. Not fair."

She gently got down from Bucky's grip and took a deep breath, swiping at her eyes and fiddling with that necklace again.

"No, yeah, okay, I was stuck in some extreme shit when I lived in the orphanage, and then someday this guy came in and told me he could take me away from this place, and being tiny and still trusting people, I let him sneak me out without signing any adoption papers. So he took me to this institute, saying, and I remember this part pretty clearly, 'Here's another little screamer for ya'. Which totally wasn't true, because I only screamed like once when I was with him, and that was when he told me he was going to send me there.

"And after that, my memory is kind of really fucking splotchy. I remember this other girl, she had really nice, long hair, and her name was Christy, and then there was Wind, and-and Becky, and shit, I couldn't get them out." She took a deep breath. "Needles." She shivered. Bruce hummed.

"I know how you feel about those, but, I feel like we need to do some testing. If you really heal that fast, and can make things explode with your mind, I really want to know what they did to your DNA." Emma frowned, looked uncomfortable.

"Uh... Yeah... Okay..."

She was taken out of the lab for the blood drawing, because Bruce had a lot of expensive equipment he was very fond of, and a panicking patient that can blow up things with their mind when panicking, well, that's not the best combo.

Emma almost broke Clint's hand when she squeezed it, but he didn't whine, he only stroked her back softly, murmuring things about bravery and nonsense that didn't even make sense to him, but it comforted Emma, and that was all that mattered.

"I'll get right to it," Bruce said, and Emma nodded, frowning down on her arm.

"Hey, kiddo," Bucky said as he took Bruce's place, and she looked up. The other's had left, but Bucky had stayed, and Bruce disappeared into his lab again. 

"What?"

"Let me see your back."

"Why?"

"The voice said that you jumped out the window," he said and turned her around. She had some pieces of glass embedded into her skin, and Bucky hummed. "What I'd tell ya!" Emma rolled her eyes, but let him pluck the glass out of her back, making her hiss, and grit her teeth.

Even if they would only be scars in less than two days, it still hurt like fuck.

"Where did Nat and Clint go?" she asked quietly.

"The adults are going to make dinner that you burnt, and until then, we have some time."

"The adults? You don't classify as an adult?" Emma asked, turned to look at him with a smile. Bucky shrugged, put another band-aid on her back.

"Fine, the functional adults," Bucky said.

"I... Don't know how to respond to that. You don't..." Bucky gave her a confused look, and she just shook her head. "Nevermind. Don't want to dig into that nightmare."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the remaining Avengers were cooking, and discussing their new little complication.

"Well, I think that this is just great," Clint said sarcastically whilst putting down the phone.

"I wonder what would do that to her, what mixture-" Tony began, but was interrupted by Steve.

"I wonder _who_ did this to her," he said angrily as he pulled a new glass out of the cabinet.

"Oh. Yeah, that's really important too."

"The most important thing for her to do right now, is learn to control it, so that Tony doesn't have to repair another one of his suits," Natasha said, as she watched the small robot vacuum the glass up. Thank god it was July, otherwise being without a window in the kitchen might have bothered her. However, she stayed out of sniper range, and noticed that Clint did too, probably unconsciously.

"Yeah, maybe she can just disassemble electronics with her mind, and when it's uncontrolled, it blows up?" Tony suggested.

"I don't think so, she broke a glass. Almost your coffeemaker," Steve pointed out. Tony's brown eyes went wide.

"Jarvis? She didn't kill my machine, did she?" he asked quickly.

"No, sir, she did not," Jarvis assured him. Tony sighed out of relief.

"That's it. She needs to control it. Like, right now."

"Well, I think we should focus on making her more comfortable in-" Natasha began, but was interrupted by the elevatorbell.

"That would be the takeout, Sir," Jarvis alerted Tony.

"Awesome. Call Dynamite-girl upstairs, and her lovable companion too, if he wants food or nah," he said, walking towards the elevator. 

\---

Bucky did eat with them, staying silent the whole time. Tony went with a box of pad-thai to Bruce and didn't come back. Steve noticed that he was keeping a careful distance from Emma, not wanting her to explode again.

That was really a mean thought. He tried his hardest to engage her in conversation, and since when she was nervous, and not nervous for that matter, she always talked, it was fairly easy.

They retreated to the couches, sleepy and full, when Tony came back. He looked gleeful, and plopped down on the couch next to Steve, who was surprised but wrapped an arm around him. Tony was secretly very cuddly, and loved that Steve was the same.

Emma seated herself inbetween Clint's legs, and Clint let her, he put a warm hand on her wrist gently. They weren't going to leave her.

As the hours ticked by, the living room area's laughter and talking quieted down to only whispering, as Emma had fallen asleep. Bucky's watchful eyes were resting on her sleeping face, and Steve noticed. He had his billionaire resting against his chest, and rested his nose in the tousle of hair.

Bucky immediately noticed that someone was watching him, and his eyes caught Steve's, relaxed slightly.

"You're staring, Stevie," Bucky said, and gave him a small smirk. Stevie. It had been decades since he had heard Bucky call him that, _decades_. His mouth must have dropped, because Bucky smiled wider, only for a second, but it was still there, and maybe Emma was right, Bucky was still Bucky, only a broken version of him.

"Is it against the law?" Steve asked back, and Bucky just snorted.

"It's not. I'm just over here wondrin' why."

"You're staring too," Steve said softly. Bucky sighed as he watched Natasha's green eyes connect with Clint's, and she raised one of her perfect eyebrows his way. Clint nodded.

"Yeah. That kid has superpowers," he said quietly.

"I'm not actually sure it's superpowers," Tony alarmed them both, without looking up from his phone. "I'm pretty sure it's a serum, like Cap and Natasha."

"I wasn't talking about those powers," Bucky remarked, shifted his jaw. Him sitting on the floor with his hair up and one knee tucked into his chest made him look strangely... Normal. Except for the arm, and the tired features and obvious fatigue.

"Oh." Tony looked over at Emma too. "Yeah. Yeah, she totally does."

\---


	19. Staying Home and Corny Speeches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi there friends!  
> I just want to give you guys a tip.  
> Listen to Arrows by Fireworks. I feel that it's fitting for Clint in general, and I love it.  
> Enjoy this chapter!

 

The next morning, Clint, Emma, Natasha, Tony, and Bruce were gathered in the kitchen. Steve was out on his morning run, and Thor was still in New Mexico with Jane. It was a calm morning. Or so they thought.

"Sir, Agent Coulson is in the lobby," Jarvis suddenly alerted them. Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Did you check for his tazer?" he asked, and Natasha frowned his way.

"He's not going to taze you, Tony," she muttered.

"I did, Sir, he does not have it. What he does have with him, is a social worker," Jarvis said, a bit of concern in his voice. Emma's whole body went rigid, and Clint's face turned serious as he looked up from his cereal.

"Where is he now?" Clint asked.

"On the twenty-third floor. Twenty-fourth. Twenty-fifth." The bell to the elevator dinged, and Agent Coulson and another well dressed man entered the messy kitchen. Clint and Natasha stood up, and Tony was by the coffee maker, Emma was frozen in her chair, half petrified, because it was happening, and half terrified because Tony wasn't wearing real pants. Or a shirt.

Just his Captain America boxers, and Steve's open hoodie.

"Agent. Why are you here so fucking early in the morning?" he asked, sipping his coffee as if this didn't bother him at all. Coulson's look grazed over Tony Stark's form, and his lips pursed ever so slightly at the sight of the underwear.

"Agents. Dr. Banner. Stark," Coulson said. Then he looked over at Emma. She swallowed. "Emma. I'm here because social services have been alerted about the fact that the small girl living in the Avengers tower does not have an actual legal guardian. She has to come with us."

"What?!" That was Tony's reply. "She has us! How much money do I need to throw at this problem? I can buy you another tazer, Agent." Coulson tried not to smile.

"This isn't a money problem," the social worker assured him. When his eyes fell on Emma, she gripped the table, hard, and the man suddenly looked strange, frowning and grimacing in pain, and Natasha laid her hand on Emma's to calm her down so that she didn't accidentally kill him.

"We're not letting her go," Natasha said with her Black Widow voice, green eyes boring into the man. And now, it seemed, that his only problem was not getting his head blown off by Emma. He stood his ground.

"Having a child not stay with her legal guardian is against the law," the social worker explained. Clint's bird eyes narrowed.

"Legal guardian..." he muttered. "So... If we were to adopt her, she would get to stay with us?" Everybody's eyes went to Clint, who just stared at the social worker.

"You... You're going to adopt me?" Emma's voice was barely a whisper, and now Natasha's eyes looked a little nervous as they darted over to Clint.

"I mean... Why not? I want kids. You're the sweetest girl I know, you're smart, you get along with Tasha great and the team great. Why shouldn't I adopt you?" he asked.

"Uh... Because you're... You?" Tony suggested.

"Well, Clint and Natasha _were_ the ones to save her," Bruce pointed out. "And they share a floor. And, I bet Jarvis calls on them before he calls on one of us if Emma is distressed."

"I do, Dr. Banner," Jarvis said, and Emma's jaw was slack as she stared at them all.

"Why... Why would you even want me here?" she asked, her voice small, and now Natasha didn't look unsure.

"You're great," Natasha said a little softer than her usual tone, and Emma looked like she had been punched in the gut really hard. Hearing Natasha say that, above all, was like being touched by an angel.

She couldn't believe her ears. The Avengers wanted her to stay with them? They wanted _her_? To _stay_? To say she was surprised was such a big understatement it wasn't even funny.

' _It's just because of your powers, they want to use you_ ' a small voice in her head whispered, and she just took a short breath. _Let them._

"Just give me the goddamned papers," Clint said, brushing Tony's comment off. The social worker looked uncertain, glancing over at Coulson, who, in turn, looked very calm.

"Yeah, because that kid is staying right here," Tony said, banging his fist like a judge's club into the kitchen island. Natasha stood up and stood next to Clint.

"Papers please," she said, her voice leaving no room for protest.

And that's how Emma became a permanent resident in the tower.

\---

"Clint and Natasha adopted Emma?" Steve asked as he walked into the workshop.

"Mmmmhm," Tony said without even moving his gaze from the screens.

"That's great..." Steve said thoughtfully. Tony suddenly swivled around in his chair, frowning at Steve's tone.

"What's that voice?" Steve looked up from the floor, his cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink the world ever created. Tony's heart filled with dread. Steve took a deep breath.

"Well... We are engaged. Why can't we adopt a kid?" Tony swallowed hard.

"Okay, I'm going to list the many reasons why that is a _terrible_ idea. First of all, me? A dad? That's ridiculous. I can't even take care of myself, and what if I turn into Howard? What if I turn into that senseless, inattentive bitch, who-"

"Tony, that's impossible," Steve said softly, putting his hands on the armrests of Tony's chair. "You care about others, you created a home for us all, you _care_. You can't turn into Howard, because you're not like him."

"But we're superheroes, Steve! What if one of us dies? Or even worse, both of us die, and we leave the kid alone? And think of the kind of life it'll have! It won't be very... you know... normal." Steve's large hands went from the armrests to his fiancé's thighs, and kissed him softly on the lips. Tony smiled into the kiss, melting the exact same way he always had.

"You think I haven't thought about all this? I still think we can do this, Tony. And, well, it's not like we haven't died before, right?" Tony chuckled. "I think we'll do good. Plenty of other superheroes have children. And they're okay, Tony. More than okay. They carry their legacy, and sure, they got them worried a lot, but they also help them get through rough times." He stopped at the little teasing smirk he had been receiving from Tony. He gave him a questioning look.

"I just love it when you go all corney speechy on me." Steve huffed.

"All I'm trying to say," Steve continued, giving the other man a warning look, "is that we could do it. You've handled Emma fine."

"Yeah, well, Emma acts like a goddamned adult. Or a Clint adult. A reverse Clint adult," Tony said, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Yeah, definitely a reverse Clint adult. A small child that acts like an adult."

"Tony," Steve said sternly, and Tony snapped out of it. He sighed, looked down at Steve's hands on his thighs. "Don't you want children?"

Goddamn it, Steve was giving him that puppy-eyed look. Fuck.

"Well... I..." Tony sighed. "I hadn't really thought of it, you know. Not before we started... Doing our relationship thingy." Steve smiled.

"You'll be the best father any kid can have," he said quietly, his blue eyes shining in that way that could make Tony's knees buckle, and he felt like a sap just thinking of it. "Because you don't want to be Howard. You won't make his mistakes." Tony just stared at Steve.

Fuck, if he got to keep one thing in this world and nothing else, it would be Steve. He'd felt the sickness in his stomach subside as quick as it had arrived when Steve had said he loved him the first time. It had been awesome, that night. And that morning. Waking up with him was a safe haven in Tony Stark's usual chaos of a world.

And maybe, just maybe, he had thought of the little pitter-patter from tiny feet joining them in the bed. And maybe, just maybe, he could do this. With Steve, it didn't feel like hell. It felt... Nice. Really nice. Better than nice. More than awesome.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's get a kid."

\---


	20. Announcements And Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many Kudos and Comments! Thank you so much, I love reading you opinions on my work and suggestions, it gets me really motivated!  
> Enjoy this chapter!

 

By lunch, Emma was officially Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff's adopted daughter. A single Clint didn't seem like the best parent, but with Natasha on the papers too, that made it look better, like Emma wasn't going to die from accidentally setting off one of his explosive arrows. The redheaded assassin had a more responsible track record than he did.

She was rebellious in different ways than he was.

Pepper set up a press conference to announce it, and wow, did Tony look different in a suit.

He was wearing a dark grey one, a red tie and his usually mussed hair, looked professionally mussed. He was wearing sunglasses and an expensive watch, and was typing something on his phone as he, Emma, Clint, Natasha, and Coulson piled into the elevator.

Natasha was wearing a white blouse and ironed suit pants, looking pretty goddamned professional, and Clint was wearing dark dark blue jeans and a light blue shirt. Coulson was in his usual suit, and Emma had refused to wear a suit or anything of the like.

She was instead wearing a dark Star Wars shirt, and her white-washed pale jeans. Truly, she didn't give a shit about what the press thought of her, but Coulson did, and he meant a lot to Clint and Nat, so she decided not to be too harsh on him.

"Romanoff, you do the talking, Barton, try to be quiet and not be a bitch to the press, Emma, just do whatever it is that you do, and Coulson-" Tony said, but stopped when he saw Coulson's look. "Right. You've got it."

"I do, Mr. Stark," Coulson said calmly. Emma was fiddling with her necklace to calm her nerves.

That necklace was the only thing that she had left from her first family, her mothers necklace. The small golden swallow was somehow soothing to touch, the one thing that remained with her through her entire life. With this... New family, she needed strength. Not her superhuman one, but strength to power through things, like PR. That one would be a pain in the ass.

The doors opened, and Tony headed out first.

"Coulson, grab Emma and go backstage," he muttered and put on his PR smile as he more or less shoved the two agents into the pressroom. Coulson showed Emma to another door, and they stepped behind a wall, where they could still see Tony leaning casually against a podium, and Natasha and Clint standing behind him with their arms crossed and blankfaced.

Emma could see Coulson roll his eyes and sigh quietly.

"Alright, folks, I'm sure you're all really confused and curious as to why we called you here today," Tony said, and quieted down the chatter that was circling in the room. "We have an announcement. I should probably start with my announcement, or do you wanna go first, Romanoff? Barton?"

"Please proceed Tony," Natasha said calmly, giving the press her 'I can kill you all' look, and by god, was it terrifying.

"Right. Me and Captain America are in a relationship. And we're engaged."

The room rebelled.

Everyone was shouting questions, and cameras were flashing, but Tony just offered them a smile.

"No date is set, red-white-blue-gold is going to be the color scheme, and it's going to be private. Now, for today's next bomb, my fellow team member the Black Widow, aka Ms. Natasha Romanoff, has something to say."

Tony left the podium, and let Natasha step up, who looked as emotionless as she usually did, only now there was something more guarded about her. The room went silent, and she just stared them all down, evaluating them.

"A few months back, my partner Hawkeye and I went on a classified mission. We rescued a little girl, named Emma. She is currently twelve years old and as of today, she is a member of the Avengers family, me and my partners adopted child."

"I'm actually thirteen now," Emma whispered to Coulson without tearing her gaze away from Natasha. "I turned three days ago. Just didn't tell them." Coulson's eyebrows raised just a little.

The room erupted in loud questions, and Natasha pointed to someone, Emma couldn't see who, the wall was in the way.

"How do you plan to raise this child, when you're as cold and non-maternal as you are?" this idiot fucker said. Emma snorted loudly, and Clint looked like he just might strangle him. He leaned against the mic, effectively cutting Natasha's answer off.

"Hey asshat, she's not cold, she's great with Emma, and if either of you think differently, you can take those doubts and shove them-" Natasha pushed him away from the mic and cleared her throat.

"The whole team is going to help raise her," she said coldly, adding extra frost to her voice as she stared the man down. "So she is greeted with tons of love. Not just my cold and non-maternal respect." She pointed to another waiving hand in the crowd.

"Is Emma your biological child?" Emma could hear a female voice say.

"I wish," Clint said, too close to the microphone, and Natasha gave him a look.

"She's not. With her looks, she could be," Natasha admitted.

"Can we see her?" someone shouted from the crowd, and Natasha sighed quietly. Tony swooped in.

"For privacy reasons, we'd like to keep our little gem safe," he said, and Emma almost laughed. _Gem_. "She doesn't need the whole publicity thing just yet."

"How will a child be safe in the Avengers tower with crime-fighting parents?" someone else shouted. Clint chuckled quietly, and gave Tony a glance. His smile slipped for a second, but then it was on like the sun again.

"Well, we've got better security than any home in the world, so I think that that question is irrelevant," he said. "Thanks for the twenty-questions, see ya folks!"

He threw a peace sign up into the air, and camera shutters went off, and now Emma totally understood why he wore sunglasses inside at a press conference.

\---

When Bruce resurfaced, Emma was sitting in the common area with Tony and Bucky, and Bucky had a fold on his metal arm open. Tony was showing them both what it looked like, when Bucky heard someone approaching, and started staring at the arch that connected the kitchen to the common room.

"I've got it!" Bruce said happily. His hair was standing up in every direction, and he had the mad-scientist vibe all over, from his bright eyes to his rumpled clothes.

"That's great Brucie!" Tony said, just as happy. "Is it a serum?"

"It's... Something of the like," Bruce said thoughtfully. "It's not like anything I've ever seen. From what I've deduced, however, it's not finished. The thing Emma was injected with was like poison. It consumed the other girls, and killed them. Out of the eighteen little girls that were originally brought there, it killed nine of them almost immediately, but the other nine? It turned them into small warriors. I think they tried to recreate Red Rooms serum for their girls."

"That's terrifying," Tony remarked. "So Emma is like Natasha?"

"No. She's more... Uncontrolled. That was the main problem, the instability and unpredictable ways the children would react to it. Kids are easy to manipulate, but one of the girls differed. That would be you," Bruce said, his eyes shining. Emma hummed.

"I've been told I bring chaos with me," she offered.

"What they injected you with worked with your body, but it didn't work with your mind. You didn't fall under their control like the others did. And one day, they poked a little too much at you, and since you were more unstable than the others, you exploded. You woke up from your programming. You broke _free_."

Something flashed behind Emma's eyes, hands pushing her under water, telling her to _shut up, punch him, kill him, snap his neck_. _She didn't want to. She just wanted to sleep, in her soft bed at home, with_ -

"They were using small girls and turning them into super soliders at age nine?" Bucky asked. Bruce nodded, sat down on the couch.

"I've read through some of their notes, and one sentence kept coming up: 'Nr13 is still resisting full effects'," he said. "Since you were the only one of eighteen girls to get out, I'm going to assume that was you."

"Yeah..." Emma said slowly. "That totally explains why 13 is my lucky number."

"Mine is 27," Bruce said, smiling quietly. Emma grinned.

"What did you win on the number 27?" she asked.

"I used to live in apartment 27C," he explained.

"Getting off-track here," Bucky said, and Bruce shook his head.

"Right, yeah... That's my theory so far."

"Unstable serum that makes her blow things up when she's pissed?" Tony said slowly.

"When she's scared. And, it makes her wounds heal remarkably quickly, and she has the same strength as a grown bodybuilder, and she's pretty flexible, but that could be more of the circus thing, if Natasha's observations are anything to go on," Bruce corrected.

"Kickass," Emma decided.

"Kickass, indeed," Tony agreed. "So, we don't know how to control it?" Bruce smiled kindly.

"My tip is, don't get in a situation where you may be scared. Also, probably don't watch scary movies?"

"What? They're the best movies!" Emma whined. 

"Then don't blow the tv up, or fry Jarvis," Tony suggested.

"I would _never_ fry Jarvis. Ever."

"Or my arm?" Bucky asked. Emma looked shocked to the core, almost offended.

" _Never_. I would never want to hurt you," she said and gave his wrist a slight touch. He nodded, his face emotionless, but then nobody really expected him to react in another way.

"Also, if you ever pop my suit again, I will be very angry. Like, the worse-than-explosion kind of angry," Tony said, and Emma made a face.

"Right... Sorry about that..." He made a dismissive noise as Bruce collapsed on the couch, sighing quietly.

"You okay, Brucie-bear?" Tony asked. Bruce nodded, yawning.

"Yeah. I'm really tired though. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know," he chuckled quietly.

"You should go to bed," Emma said. "We've got it covered." Bruce gathered his strength and got up again, dragging his way to the elevator with a wave. Drained of all excitement, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Emma watched him go, and Tony turned back to Bucky's arm.

Another thing flashed in her mind, the feeling of bone breaking under her fist, someone speaking to her in a sweet, slippery voice that really annoyed her, trying to calm her.

_Cut her finger off_

_i don't wanna_

_Cut it off, Emma_

_you can't tell me what to do_

_Cut it **off**._

"Em? Are you listening?" Tony asked, snapped her out of her mind.

"Right. Yeah, uh, sorry, take that again?"

\---

When Bucky followed her all the way to her bedroom, she should have known that he knew something was up. Well, she should have. She didn't get it right away though.

"Bucky, I'm fully capable of sleeping on my own," Emma smiled up at him, patted his chest before opening her door. Clint and Nat were somewhere else, probably on the roof, and she was tired, so she trusted that they would be back soon and that she wouldn't be killed in her sleep. That didn't explain why Bucky was following her.

"I know," he said as she walked into her room, and he followed her.

"Well, what's up with you then? You don't wanna sleep?" she asked as she fell down on her bed, curling up over the covers. When he didn't answer her, she looked up, her eyes soft. He was leaning against her wall, and looked like he wasn't going to move anytime soon. "James? Wanna tell me what's wrong?"

Bucky shifted his jaw, and sighed quietly.

"You've just been through a lot today. I'm pretty sure you've had flashbacks, I know what those look like, you zone out, and you've been doing that all day," Bucky said. Emma flicked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I want to leave you alone yet."

Emma laughed.

"That's an awfully stalker-ish thing to say." He looked confused, and she sighed loudly. "I'm fine, really. You can go to bed. Or you could, you know, stay on my floor. It'll be like a sleepover, except you just want to keep an eye on me. That sound good to you?"

Now Bucky looked uncertain. Emma remembered that during their week of movies, he had asked her to move into her own room if he fell asleep. He was probably more of a threat to her safety than she was.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said.

"You won't. We'll both be fine," she promised, although she didn't know if that was true. Bucky nodded, but he really didn't look convinced.

"I had another flashback today," he admitted.

"Yeah? Wanna tell me about it?" she said, and patted a spot on her bed next to her. Bucky didn't move. She didn't really expect him to.

"It was me and Steve again."

"Were you kissing?" Emma asked sleepily. A look of pure horror flashed over Bucky's face.

"No! Why would you even ask that?!" Bucky exclaimed, and looked almost looked angry with her. Emma sat up, her eyebrows could touch the skies, and Bucky's face shifted to one that looked more scared of himself than her question.

"It's okay, James," she said slowly. "I was only joking. I didn't actually-"

"No! We didn't... Kiss." He uttered the last word like it physically pained him. Emma squinted at him.

"Alright. What did you do then?" Now he looked really hesitant, and Emma was beginning to wonder how sexually confused Bucky had been pre-Winter Solider, let alone _post_ -Winter Solider. In the forties, being gay was like a disease, it had probably taken Steve a long time before he admitted he wanted Tony, and he hadn't been brainwashed. Maybe Bucky was gay? Damn. The hot ones are _always_ gay.

"We were saying goodbye. I was wearing a uniform," Bucky said quietly.

"Was he small? Pre-serum small?" Emma asked, and Bucky nodded, regaining control of his emotions. His face turned emotionless again, and he seemed even more guarded than usual now.

"Yes." Emma nodded.

"Was it emotional?"

"Was what emotional?"

"The goodbye. Did you feel something? Like you were going to miss him?" Bucky nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I felt like I was going to miss him a lot."

"And has that made you see him in another light?" Emma suggested carefully. "Because you know, being gay is totally okay, and-"

"I'm not gay," Bucky said, his voice clipped. Emma put her hands up in a surrender.

"Fine. Don't put your dick up some guy's ass. See if I care. Totally not my business," she muttered, and crawled underneath the covers. "Turn the light off before you leave if you don't want to stay."

The room turned dark with a click, and she heard Bucky leave the door a little open, knowing not to close the door.

Well. That could have gone better.

\---

"Alright, her full name is blacklined on the papers. But, one of her three middle names is Ophelia. Whoa. That's really pretty," Clint said, and studied the adoption papers. They were sitting on the roof, discussing their daughter's future. Natasha was still trying to believe it, she had a  _daughter_.

"Ophelia?" Natasha asked.

"Mhm. If I had a daughter I would name her that. Totally."

"You have names planned for your kids?" Natasha asked, amused.

"Yeah. Don't you?" His clear blue eyes met hers in a quizzical manner.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I never thought about the possibility of kids." She pulled a red curl behind her ear that had gone off on its own. "So, what would you name your kids, Barton?"

He grinned.

"If it's a girl, Emily Rose, and if it's a boy, William Hugo."

"'If it's'? You make it sound like it's happening soon," Natasha said.

"Hey! I can find myself some love to drown in soon. I'm a great matchmaker, I keep fixing people up with people they like, I'm like Cupid!"

"You're a whore with a bow and arrow," Natasha smirked, and Clint made a mock shocked noise.

"Tasha! I'm hurt."

"Oh, boo hoo, tell me I'm wrong," she rolled her eyes with a smile, and Clint grinned back before looking back down at the documents. 

"Hey. Wait a second. Her birthday is the 21st of July. That was three days ago!"

"She didn't tell us about her birthday?" Natasha said, puzzled.

"Apparently not. How rude."

"I get her. I don't like spectacles on my birthdays either," she shrugged.

"Well, when you live with Tony, it's hard to avoid. He loves to make spectacles. Especially on birthdays. You should be happy he doesn't know when your birthday is."

"And he never will," Natasha said simply.

"Fair enough." Clint hummed. "So... She's thirteen. There's a lot of pressure on those tiny shoulders of hers, from past traumas. She's probably going to make a run for it pretty soon. She'll panic, blow something up and try to run away. How long did she stay with the very kind lesbian couple?"

"Four months," Natasha said slowly. "Oh, you think she'll run because she thinks we're going to abandon her?"

"Yeah, and it won't be pretty. We'll have to make sure that she feels comfortable enough to tell us when something is wrong by then, so that she'll tell us that she's thinking of running before she does it."

"Smart."

"Thank you! See, I'm not _just_ a whore with a bow and arrows."

"No. You're not," Natasha said softly, softer than she had ever intended to be. Clint swallowed hard when their eyes met again. "You're my partner too."

"Yeah. I can be that too."

\---


	21. Revelations And Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like there isn't enough Pepper in this thing. I'm adding more Pepper, and Stony.  
> Enjoy!

 

Bucky didn't sleep. 

It wasn't like he hadn't stayed up without sleeping before, but for some reason, he felt guilty.

Probably because he yelled at Emma, but he wasn't thinking about that when he approached Steve's and Stark's room.

"Steve?" Bucky knocked on the door, and shuffling of sheets were heard, and whispering.

Bucky was just about to leave when the door opened, revealing Steve. He was only wearing pajamapants, and his cheeks were pink and his hair mussed.

"Bucky, hi," Steve said, and Stark groaned from the bed.

"Come on Barnes, right now?" Tony whined, and Steve shot him a scolding look. Bucky snorted.

"I could come back later."

"Please, yes-"

"No, you don't-"

They both shut up at the same time, and Bucky huffed a little.

"I know who Emma is," he instead said.

"Wow, give him a million dollars! He knows who Emma is!" Tony exclaimed from the bed.

"Was that sarcastic, Sir?" Jarvis asked smugly.

"It was," Tony agreed. "Does he even have a bank account?"

"I am afraid not, Sir." Bucky grinned inwardly. Some things these people didn't need to know about him.

"She told me her last name, and it rung a bell," Bucky instead said, directing his attention to Steve, who was more soft in his approach. Stark was, well, Stark.

"Oh?" Steve said, obviously interested as he crossed his arms.

"I know who killed her parents."

"Really? Who did?"

"I did."

Stark's jaw dropped, and Steve's baby blue eyes widened.

"...What?" he said, his voice careful. Bucky took a deep breath.

"I stabbed them. In their beds. Her mother and her father. And set their house on fire. They were two of my targets, they were killing off Hydra agents a little bit of everywhere. So Hydra sent me to kill them, and their daughter. I never found their daughter, so I set the house on fire to kill her if she was still in there." He spoke in a monotone, and Steve's eyes got impossibly wider.

"That's... That can't be..."

"It is. I remember their name."

"And you're not going to tell us?" Stark said, obviously infuriated. His nostrils were flaring, and his brow creasing.

"No. She trusted me with her name, and I'm going to keep it."

"You killed her parents but now you want to be loyal?" he snapped. Bucky shrugged.

"I'm not the Winter Solider anymore. The Winter Solider killed them." He looked over at Steve, who was processing the information.

"If Emma finds out, she will be... Crushed."

"We're not getting along so well now anyways," Bucky admitted plainly. Steve looked concerned.

"What? You two are like two peas in a pod!" Bucky gave him a confused look. "You're close."

"Oh. We were. I'm not sure that she wants to talk to me anymore."

"Why, did you tell her that you killed her parents?" Tony snorted from the bed.

"No. We were discussing something, and I snapped at her. She snapped back, but I'm sure she was more hurt than I was." Steve patted his shoulder.

"You should apologize if you feel bad," he suggested.

"For killing her parents or for arguing with her?"

"I would say both," Tony said from the bed, wrapping the covers tighter around himself. His torso was also uncovered, and Bucky wanted to go now, desperately.

"Maybe I will. You may continue," Bucky muttered and turned, and walked.

Tony was very bummed that Bucky had interrupted their sexy-times, but Steve promised to make it up to him, so he just pouted when his super solider went off to shower.

If he joined him in there, well, no one but Jarvis had to know.

\---

Emma blinked herself awake, and snuggled into the covers, making a cocoon of warmth with her blanket. She felt all snuggly and warm. That feeling of safety was very unusual for her to feel.

"Jarvis? Is anyone else awake?" she asked.

"Everyone but Dr. Banner is awake, Emma," Jarvis soothing voice told her.

"Cool. What time is it?"

"Twenty-three minutes past ten AM." Emma nodded sleepily.

"Any guests or can I go downstairs without pants?"

"Ms. Potts is here, discussing weddingplans with Sir and Captain Rogers."

"Cool. So, what do you think about your new stepdad?" Emma smirked.

"Please clarify that statement?" Jarvis asked.

"Well, Tony is pretty much your dad, since he made you and all. And he's getting married to Steve. So that would be, by definition, your stepdad."

"I dislike that statement."

"You dislike Steve?"

"Captain Rogers is Sirs primary source of happiness. I want nothing but to please Sir."

"So... You're okay with him marrying Steve?" Emma asked as she disentangled herself from the covers.

"If it makes Sir happy."

"He looks happy to me."

"To me too." Emma yawned and grabbed Thor's cape before exiting her room, her stomach leading her to the kitchen.

Pepper Potts was a remarkable woman. How she dealt with Tony and was the CEO of a major company and still managed to have a social life that involved more or less normal people was beyond Emma's comprehension. Pepper was also kickass and knew how to get what she wanted, almost like Natasha. Only Pepper wasn't a trained spy.

Emma came into the kitchen to see Pepper arguing with Tony about meetings and photoshoots, Steve must have left, and Bucky was watching them with fascination. Emma had her head held high as she walked into the kitchen.

She was a stubborn ass. Charlie always complained about that.

"Morning Tony. Hi Pepper," Emma smiled at them, and Pepper gave her a soft smile.

"Hi sweetie, how are you?" Pepper asked softly, and Tony mumbled a morning before he was looking down at his tab again. Bucky's grey eyes bored into her, but she ignored him completely as she reached the toaster, plopped two poptarts in.

"I'm good, how are you?" Emma smiled.

"I'm good, thank you." Pepper was sweet. Emma liked her. Who she wasn't very happy with right now, though, was Bucky, and he was blocking her way to the fridge for some chocolate milk.

Emma gave him a sharp look, and he moved, spooning some Lucky Charms into his mouth. Bucky had a sweet tooth he never would admit to have, but he did, and it was one of Emma's favorite things to find sugary treats all through his floor and bedroom. It felt like going on a treasure hunt that she didn't need a map for.

But now she was pissed, and she grabbed the chocolate milk and drank right out of the carton.

"Where's Steve?" Emma asked.

"We have a thing to go to, so, he's probably up changing," Tony said, and his posture changed, from open and pouting to nervous. Pepper smiled at him.

"Well, after that, you know what to do, right?" she said in a stern tone.

"Yeah yeah."

"Repeat what I told you to do." Tony sighed loudly and his nervousness drained again, sinking back in his chair with a groan.

"Meeting at twelve, look like the billionaire and not the genius, photoshoot at two, I have to look good to your standards, not mine, and play nice with them. Also, great job with the press conference, although please, _for the love of god_ , tell me next time," Tony repeated. Pepper sighed.

"Yeah. That's it," she said, and stood up, picking her tablet up too. She had heels that could literally kill, and she didn't even look bothered.

"Wow," Emma let out, and Pepper gave her a smile.

"They're expensive, but I love 'em," she smiled. She also gave Bucky a smile, which he did not reciprocate. She probably didn't expect him too. Nobody really expected a lot from him. Him being around them without his hand on a gun was to them a miracle in itself.

"They look like murder weapons," Emma said, and Pepper laughed a beautiful laugh.

"Yeah. You keep that in mind," she said and pointed to Tony who put his hands in the air. Emma noticed how Bucky squinted at Pepper, and usually she would have told him that she was joking so that he didn't kill her, but, well, she was angry. "Bye Tony," Pepper said and kissed Tony's hair, and he blew her a kiss as she walked to the elevator, just as Steve stepped out of it.

"Hello Ma'm," Steve said on instinct, and Pepper patted his shoulder.

"Just Pepper, Steve, we're basically in-laws," she said as she stepped into the elevator.

"Right, sorry M-Pepper," Steve saved his own ass and walked over to Tony, sitting down. Emma picked her poptarts out of the toaster and sat down by the table with them.

"Hi sweetie," Tony said and looked up from his phone and shot Steve a dazzling smile. Steve smiled back.

"Shall we?" he asked, glanced over at Emma sitting curled up like a small ball on the other side of the table.

"We shall," Tony agreed and stood up with Steve. "Don't wait up," he told Emma when Steve dragged an arm around Tony's waist, gave his cheek a kiss.

"Don't say that, they don't know what we're doing," Steve murmured and Tony grabbed his ass as they got onto the elevator. "Bye you two, Emma be good!" he called.

"Never!" Emma called back just before the doors closed. Then there was silence in the room. The window Emma had broken had been replaced pretty quickly, and when Emma felt Bucky's piercing gaze, she looked out the window, chewing quietly.

She wasn't very patient though.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" she snapped suddenly, and Bucky didn't jolt, he never jolted, he just blinked. "I'm angry with you!" Emma exclaimed.

"Why?"

"Why the fuck do you think?!"

"I feel like I should be the one angry with you," Bucky said slowly.

"Why? For asking if you're gay?" she asked and stood up when he put the bowl down, with a bit more force than needed.

"Yes!" An emotion flickered over his face, and Emma nearly jumped. She wasn't used to that at all.

"It's not an insult! Your best friend is gay!"

"Are you..."

"I meant Steve, but thank you for calling me your best friend," Emma sighed. "I'm thirteen, dude. I'm still figuring that out. Why, would you shun me if I was lesbian?" His face was a battlefield of emotion, and he sighed loudly.

"Darcy."

"What?" Emma said, really confused. Bucky sighed again.

"Darcy is a pretty girl." Emma smiled.

"That's more of a statement of fact than a coming out," she pointed out.

"I think she's prettier than Steve. He's not a fair comparison," he pointed out. Emma grinned.

"True. Every American wants to fuck Captain America. I think Clint made a survey." Bucky snorted.

"I'm more Russian now."

"Cool, say something in Russian, Nat won't teach me any cursewords." Bucky shook his head.

"I don't want to die." Emma laughed, her anger slipping.

"You really think Natasha will kill me if I say a curseword in Russian?"

"No. But I'm not safe, and I did not survive wars and years of brainwashing to die because I taught a little girl in two assassins care cursewords." Emma's jaw almost dropped.

"Was that... Was that a joke? Are you _snarky_?" she nearly beamed at him, and Bucky turned emotionless again.

"I don't know what that is," he said slowly, and Emma just grinned.

"I like it. Gives you more of a bite. And a personality. Like you're not a robot."

"You cracked me," Bucky said, and now he just looked concerned. "No. I-I'm the Winter Solider. No no no no no-"

"Bucky, it's okay," Emma said quickly, took a few steps forward but decided against it. "You're among friends. I bet Nat was just like this when Clint first, you know, figured her out."

"Well, she didn't get cracked by a kid who's never quiet," Bucky said, and his voice turned emotionless too. Emma hated it.

"See, that shouldn't be a compliment, but I'm going to take it as one, because I love the sound of my own voice." Bucky's eyes darted to the vent in the ceiling, and Clint was probably there, but Emma didn't care, because Bucky wasn't feeling okay. Any agitation towards him she had left, evaporated into thin air. Okay, talking. That always seemed to help.

"Uuuh, well, Clint loves the sound of his voice too, I'm pretty sure he had a better intention than I did, I think I just did it on accident? I guess I'm just that good. Huh, maybe I should become a shrink? But I'd have to go to school for that. Hm. Should probably discuss that with Clint and Natasha, I bet they have opinions on that."

Bucky swallowed hard, and Emma sighed.

"Okay. Fine, you think I've cracked you? When I was eight, and I lived in a fosterfamily, the really religious one, they once locked me in the back of a car trunk for two days for dropping one of the plates. They warned me that the soap made them slippery, but i-it was just so slippery, and it fell and shattered on the floor. They told me I should have known better, and I probably should have, and sometimes I think of that trunk, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.  
They cracked me. I've broken bones and been cracked and stabbed and smashed into walls, and I'm still standing. Like a glowstick. First you have to break before you glow. And if I broke you, that means you should be glowing." Bucky did that squinty thing he did when he was confused or assessing her.

"It's an expression, I don't expect you to randomly combust. Even though that would be kinda cool and terrifying, I don't want you to die. I like you. You're my best friend." Emma gave him a smile. "And we are going to go to the mall, because I swear to god, I'm going to light that shirt on fire if I ever see you wearing it again. I'm not kidding on that one."

\---


	22. Decisions And Like It Or Leave Suggestions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!  
> I have literally no idea how adoption works, so I'm just guessing my way there. But I hope this is at least a little bit accurate.  
> Enjoy!

 

The whole drive to the orphanage, Tony was shaking his leg, and it would have driven Steve nuts, had he not been just as nervous. They'd taken one of Tony's less expensive cars, per Pepper's suggestion, and were now parking outside the small, out-of-town orphanage. They didn't want the press to know about it right away, they still both needed some time with this. 

"Alright, we're just looking," Steve reminded Tony as they got out of the car.

"I know, I know. Why are you saying that again?" Tony asked as they walked in together, and were immediately met with laughing children running through the halls.

"Because you like kids a lot, and I've seen the look on your face when you have to let one down. Like when we were at that hospital, and that little girl-"

"Yeah, I remember that, you don't have to bring it up again," Tony said, and Steve smiled.

"I thought it was adorable."

"So did the press." Steve was just about to reply when a woman came up to them with a small child on her hip. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail, and she looked pretty young, with a dimple on her left cheek.

"Hi, can I help you with something?" she asked, and the small kid in her arms squirmed, but she held him still.

"Yes, I'm Steve, and this is my fiancé Tony," Steve said, gave her a warm smile. "I spoke to a Miranda Keith on the phone?"

"That would be me," Miranda replied. "My office is right over there to the left, you guys head over and I'll be there in a minute, okay?" Tony and Steve walked down the hallway to an office with a glass door, and multiple handprints in different colors were planted on the glass.

"That's cute," Tony remarked as Steve opened the door.

"It's really cute," Steve agreed as they sat down in two comfy chairs seated in front of a desk. The desk wasn't neat, per se, but there was something organized about the mess of papers on it, and the walls were covered with children's drawings, and Steve admired them when Miranda came in.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, it's been really busy since the attack on New York," she said without thinking and brushed a tuft of hair astray out of her face when she sat down in her chair. "Well. Let's get started. What age of children are you thinking about having?"

They sat and discussed things with Miranda for a while, she was really helpful, and reasoned soundly. Tony liked her, she wasn't just a pretty face. She was brains, brawn, and looks. The whole package. Then he thought about Steve's package, and was distracted.

In the end, they decided that they wanted a small child, an infant or small toddler, as it would be easier for them to adapt and most likely leave out the hero-worship. They both prefered a boy to a girl (Tony thought that was pretty funny), and soon, Miranda showed them to the room where they kept their babies.

There was, in total, twelve cribs with small babies in them. Miranda showed them one that she believed would suit them well.

"This," Miranda said as she picked a small boy with red hair up. "is Colin. He's been here for the past six months. Say hi Colin." He opened his eyes and made a grumpy face when Miranda began rocking him a little.

Tony smiled at the little guy, he was cute, he had to admit that, and Steve looked happy. He was just about to say something when a cry erupted out of another crib, the one furthest away.

"Oh, no," Miranda sighed, about to put Colin down, but Tony put his hands in the air to stop her. 

"Is it okay if I give it a try?" Tony suggested. Miranda nodded.

"Yeah, sure, just be careful, he's... not really like the others," she said, worded it carefully when Tony approached the crib.

In the small crib, was a little baby, wrapped in blue blankets. His fists were clenched, and his face red as it scrunched up, and Tony suddenly felt a little anxious. What if he didn't stop crying? He was good with kids, but he didn't have that baby-whisperer thing going that Steve did.

Carefully, he picked the boy up, and his cries pretty quickly died down to heartwrenching sobs. When he looked up at Tony with his dark brown eyes, all Tony could think was _wow_.

"Who's this?" Tony asked, completely mesmerized at the little boy in his arms. A tuft of brown hair peeked out from underneath the blankets.

"That's Peter Parker," Miranda said. "He was rescued from a building that collapsed and then caught on fire. His parents died in the fire, and both his aunt and his uncle died in the hospital a few days later. The police suspected that his parents were murdered." Tony was stunned when the little boy calmed down, and looked up at the unfamiliar face above him.

Steve came over, and was pretty quickly just as amazed as Tony was. Peter was adorable.

"What did you mean when you said he wasn't like the others? Is he sick?" Tony asked as Steve held Peter in his big hands.

"No, miraculously enough, he's perfectly healthy. He wasn't hurt by the fire, he didn't inhale enough smoke for permanent damage, but when they found him, he had multiple spiderbites all over. The doctors had never seen anything like it. It doesn't seem to have had any effect on him."

"Did it happen during the attack on New York?" Tony asked, scared the little kid was bitten by some alien bug. Miranda shook her head, and put Colin back down in his crib.

"No, it happened later, I think it was a bombing or something. His parents were scientists, their lab collapsed, right," she remembered, and nodded. Steve looked down on Peter, currently sucking on Tony's thumb.

"Oh. Okay," Tony said, completely in bliss. "Steve? We're-"

"Yeah," Steve just said, and Miranda smiled at them both, but neither of them saw it, they were too focused on Peter's little noises and toothless smile.

\---

Whilst Bucky went to change clothes so that Emma didn't set him on fire, she looked up at the vent.

"Alright. Come on down," she said and sat down at the bar.

Clint dropped down next to her, and placed a badly wrapped box in front of her. Natasha dropped down on her other side, and Emma sighed. 

"Am I in trouble?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow at the two agents.

"No. Happy late birthday," Clint said and gestured to the present. Emma groaned.

"You know when my birthday is?" she whined.

"We do, as your legal guardians we have acquired that kind of info. But not your full name. Only one of your middlenames," Natasha admitted.

"Which one?"

"Wanna give us some suggestions?" Clint said, and Emma scoffed, looked over at the present.

"Nope. I'm good. What's this for?" Emma asked, pointing to the present.

"It's your birthday gift," Clint smiled. She made a face.

"I don't like birthdays," she said quietly.

"Well, neither does Tasha, but I still give her presents all the time over the year, since I don't know when her birthday is," Clint admitted. Emma smiled.

"Seriously?" She glanced at Natasha, who just made a small face that said it all. Emma laughed. "You are a dumb and courageous man, Clint Barton."

"So I've been told," Clint grinned. Emma shook her head with a smile and carefully picked the present up, began un-wrapping it.

"Wow. That is... That's a knife!" Emma exclaimed. She opened the small wooden box, and discovered a knife, shiny with a wooden handle. In the wooden handle, there was some symbols engraved. There was two words it seemed. One looked suspiciously like her name...

"It is," Natasha said. "I noticed the one you had wasn't very sharp, and if we're going to teach you how to throw knifes, you're going to need sharp knifes."

"Whoa. I don't know if I should call social services or hug you both to death," Emma said as she picked the knife up carefully. Yup. It said Emma in russian letters. And what she now believed was Ophelia. Well, they didn't know her full name yet. That was good.

"I like the hugging part, without the death, please," Clint said, and Emma threw her arms around him in a bear hug. Knowing that she could crush him didn't stop him from hugging right back.

"Thank you guys. Just, don't tell Tony. He'll set up a birthday party, and I'm not into those things."

"Neither am I," Natasha reluctantly admitted. Emma was her child now, she needed to share some of herself. She just received a huge smile from the small girl, who started playing with the knife, and Clint instructed her on how to hold it correctly when Bucky came back up.

He was now wearing a black shirt and a dark green jacket, with jeans. He looked civilian, and Emma beamed at him too.

"Look, Bucky, I got a knife!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, you two made up?" Clint said, squinting at Bucky when Emma jumped off her chair to show him. "Awesome."

"Yeah, and we're going to the mall," Emma said.

"You need some pants first. And a chaperone," Clint said, and grabbed the grate to the vent as he pulled himself up.

"Oh no, I'm not going," Natasha said and tried to grab his foot, but he snatched it back, and popped the grate back.

"Weeeell, I have like, tons of paperwork to do for Shield, sooo..." Clint said innocently, his voice echoing on the inside of the vent. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"So now is the day that you catch up on literally all your mission reports, huh? How convenient," she said sarcastically, but Clint was gone, probably crawling away from his responsibility, like usual. Natasha sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Go get dressed, Em, we're going to the mall."

\---

To Emma, the mall was great.

To Natasha, the mall wasn't that great.

To Bucky, the mall was kind of like a warzone. He prefered to think of it as that when Emma and Natasha dragged him to different stores; they were different things he had to do to get to the target. Like try on twenty-one shirts and buy almost every single one. Yeah, they were comfortable, and Emma was oddly attentive to whether they fit rather than how good they looked.

She even managed to get him to buy new underwear. 

And then the Natasha's cellphone rang. She sighed as soon as she saw the number.

"What, Tony? I'm at the mall with Emma and Bucky." Her eyes were big. "That's really quick."

"What is?" Emma asked as she dragged them both over to an ice cream stand. Natasha wrinkled her eyebrows, and she looked around.

"No, Tony, I can't-" Natasha abruptly stopped talking. "Yeah. We'll be on our way. Bye Tony." She muttered something in Russian and Bucky snorted out what sounded like a laugh. "We gotta go."

"What?" Emma whined. "Why?"

"I don't know, Steve and Tony have an announcement and from the sound of his voice, it's a really stupid thing he's done that turned out great," she muttered.

"I want ice cream before we leave."

"Sure." That's why Emma loved having Natasha as her chaperone.

They stacked their bags in the car, the nice, sleek, black car, and drove home. In the elevator up to the common room, Bucky said something in Russian, and Nat sighed.

"Fuck if I know," she replied.

"Stoooop!" Emma whined. "Not fair! Don't do the whole bilangual thing, it's not fair at all!"

"Sorry," Bucky muttered, and Emma stuck her tongue out at him.

They entered the common area, only to find Bruce sitting in the couch, leaned back and relaxed with tea in his hands. Tony was standing next to Steve in front of the couch, all jumpy, and Steve was nearly skipping with excitement too.

"Awesome, sit down," Tony said and directed them onto the big couch. "Where the fuck is Barton?"

"Somewhere in the vents probably," Emma said. "Now that we're back."

"Alright, Jarvis, set off that high-pitched alarm I set up in the vents," Tony said dismissively.

"What alarm?" Natasha asked, and worry pooled in her stomach. Clint's hearing aids were good, but not good enough to withstand Stark's tech, definitely not a high pitched alarm.

"Meh, it's high pitched enough to get his ass out of the vents at least," he shrugged. "Jarvis, turn it up to the max."

"No!" Natasha and Emma exclaimed at the same time, and Tony froze. Understanding flickered over Natashas features, and Emma gave a mini shrug at her, barely noticeable.

"Just have Jarvis call on him," Emma said, slower this time. Everyone was looking at them weird, but hey, Emma had been in the circus, she was used to those looks by now. Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Call on him again then," Tony said to Jarvis.

"Of course, Sir," he said. A minute later, Clint walked in from the kitchen, he had dropped from that vent instead of the one in the living room, since it was right above Steve and Tony's heads.

"What the fuck do you want now?" Clint asked, wiping sweat off his brow. He was getting so much better, he could punch a few bags and not feel like shit, and he was celebrating that by exercising. 

"We have an announcement," Steve said, smiling.

"We have decided to adopt a little kid!" Tony grinned. "His name is Peter Parker, he's five months old, and he's just plain adorable. Nice, quiet kid, usually."

"Wait, wait wait, back up," Clint said, holding his hands in the air. "You want to put an infant in the same building as the Hulk, a girl that can blow things up with her mind, two master assassins, Anakin Skywalker, the Tin man and Americas golden boy?" he clarified.

"Uhh. Yes?" Tony said, raising an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"You've already adopted him, haven't you?" Emma said, leaning back in the couch.

"A few signatures away," Steve said, a soft smile on his lips as he wrapped an arm around Tony's waist.

"I vote yes, because babies are adorable, and I totally don't wanna be the youngest in this building," Emma proclaimed.

"I already said yes, but keep him out of my lab," Bruce shrugged.

"This isn't really a vote, this is more of a 'like it or leave' situation," Tony said.

"Well, Tash, wanna pack up and leave?" Clint asked. Natasha sighed quietly.

"I like these quarters better than our Shield issued ones, they're comfier, and now we have to think about Emma too, she would probably mope if we left. Plus, we would still see them through work, and they would gush about their baby," Natasha said thoughtfully. "I want to stay. As Emma's parent, so should you."

Clint groaned. "Yeah, these rooms don't suck. We'll stay. I just- don't make me babysit, okay?"

"Bruce already offered," Steve smiled, and turned hopeful eyes to Bucky. Bucky sat silently, and when he realized everyone was waiting for his reaction, he just tilted his head a little.

"Congratulations," he muttered, getting up from the couch. "You're having a baby."

\---


	23. Move-In's And Giant Teddy Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't updated! I was totally out of my writers flow. Yikes. So, this might not be that good because of just that.  
> Anyhow, happy reading!

 

"Hello?"

"Hi, Pep, I'm buying a baby."

"Tony, what did we say about trying to buy people?" Pepper sighed on the other line of the video call, leaning her Starktab against a stack of books on her desk. 

"It's illegal, right, but I'm literally buying a baby," Tony said, excited.

"Not buying, Tony, adopting," Steve corrected, joining the call as he sat down in the couch next to Tony. Tony lifted Steve's arm, and snuggled in under it, angling his tablet so that Pepper could see both of their faces.

"You're doing what now?" Pepper asked, used her stern voice.

"We're adopting a baby," Tony repeated. "Geeze, Pepper, you might need to get your hearing checked."

"When did you decide this?" she instead asked, ignoring his last comment.

"Well, we decided a while back, but today we went to an orphanage, and decided on this tiny baby named Peter."

"He already has a name, or did you name him? Because you know that you're not allowed to name human beings," Pepper said. Tony grinned.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't name him, but it's a good name. Peter Benjamin Parker," he sighed.

"You're not allowed to name human beings?" Steve asked. Tony shook his head.

"And I'm also not allowed to take someones virginity, or sleep with the interns. And a bunch of other things, I've got a list," he shrugged. Then he gave Steve a sly grin. "But hey, I popped your cherry, and look how that went!"

Steve's cheeks turned a dark red, and he laughed nervously. Pepper rolled her eyes.

"Alright Tony, don't make a statement about it, don't confirm or deny, when people ask about your wedding, don't tell them anything, and please try not to do anything stupid? Please? For the company," she said, blinked at them with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, sure," Tony said.

"The whole 'telling the press about Emma' thing may have worked out fine, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they won't start foaming at the mouth if you tell them about Peter. So mouths shut, got it?" Pepper directed this specific demand at Steve, since he was the pin that had kept the group together.

"Yes, M-Pepper," Steve said, almost biting his tongue in the process. 

"Aw, aren't you sweet," she said. "I want to meet Peter, when are you bringing him home?" She asked this softer, her head tilted a little to the side.

"In three days, they're going to do some checks and stuff, but I think we're going to clear, I mean, what better parents can a kid have than Iron Man and Captain America?"

Steve noticed how much just meeting Peter had affected Tony. He was really happy, because Tony now believed they could really be parents. It was an uplifting feeling, because now he really thought so too.

On another floor, a different conversation was going down.

"Well, Emma, since it's nearing August, and you're now our... daughter, we should discuss some things," Clint said, tasting the word before he said it out loud. They were on their own floor, now that they had to think of Emma's best, they need to discuss things.

"Okay. Shoot," Emma said, made her fingers look like tiny pistols and fired at them. "Wow, sorry, that was a lame joke," she said and plopped down in one of the armchairs.

Natasha and Clint sat down on the couch, looking at her seriously. 

"Not the time for lame jokes. Got it," Emma said, pulling her feet up in the chair with her. Natasha took a breath, but Clint beat her too it.

"We had a quick talk with Tony, and he estimated your IQ to be much higher than a child your age," he said slowly. Emma raised her eyebrow, grinning.

"Well, I've learned a few things here and there, been traumatized, sounds like something that could pop my IQ up a notch."

"Yeah, see, I was also a carnie. And I know the kind of education you get there. It's pretty shit, to be honest," Clint said. She snorted.

"Tell me about it."

"So... We think you should be homeschooled," Natasha finished. Emma's eyebrows furrowed.

"What? No, please! I want to get to know people my own age, not just Dummy and You! People!" Emma said, nearly whining.

"You don't wanna be homeschooled?" Clint said, confused. 

"I want to see people. More or less normal people. Please..." Clint bit his lip, gave Natasha a glance. She seemed to be thinking long and hard about it too.

"What about your powers?" Natasha asked. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, I lived with you guys for almost three months and didn't make anything blow up. I can handle it."

"But what if someone comes at you?" Clint said, disliking even the thought of it. Emma laughed.

"That doesn't scare me. The only thing that might scare me would be if they were holding someone I care about down, or hurting them. But then, that would make me more angry than it would scared." She made a face. "Snakes. I don't like snakes, or needles, or clowns. Those three things would scare me. Maybe."

Clint and Natasha shared a quiet look, and Natasha nodded, a minimal nod that only Clint's ever-watching blue eyes could see. He sighed loudly.

"Jarvis, bring up a list of schools appropriate for Emma's age in the area," he said, and Emma squealed happily.

\---

A lot could happen in three days, as it seemed.

Tony and Steve made one of the guestrooms on their floor into a nursery, Emma held Steve company when he painted the walls a blue shade that she tought was very gender-specific, but Steve assured her that Peter would get to choose a better color when he grew up, if he didn't like blue then.

Natasha went off on a mission on her own, and nobody asked why, but Clint had thought up a lie in case anyone did, and he couldn't even tell it to himself without hearing a slight quiver to his voice, because fuck, he was better now, he could move almost as effortlessly as before, just not good enough for his own standards, and that was unacceptable. When Natasha left, he went down to the gym and worked out for almost six hours, and when Bucky found him, he was just lying on the floor, feeling like jelly. Thank a god he didn't believe in, Bucky just dumped him in the shower and didn't ask any questions.

Thor returned, and congratulated the parents-to-be merrily. They had a drinking party where Emma drank soda and Bruce drank tea, and Clint got horribly hung over, as did Tony, since they thought they could match _a_ _fucking asgardian_ in a drinking game.

Emma showed her displeasure with Clint the next morning by slamming the door to his room open really loudly. He was too drunk the other night to take his hearing aids out, and he groaned loudly as he jolted awake.

"Morning asshat," Emma said, and climbed into his bed. It was the first time she had ever actually entered his room, and she was very surprised at what she saw.

The walls were grey, with Led Zepplin posters, and AC/DC, and weird bands she'd never even heard of. There was a cluttered desk with Shield reports he probably had to write, and a guitar was leaning against the wall. His bow was by his queen sized bed, a quiver too, and guns and knifes, basically a tiny arsenal just within arms reach.

"Mhrmf," Clint said into the pillow, his voice muffled.

"Hungover?"

"Mm."

"I was feeling like going outside today, maybe to the park?" she said, and grabbed the covers that he hadn't bothered getting under last night, tucking herself in. He just groaned into the pillow again. "Oh, come on! Bucky won't go, he doesn't want to go outside and I need a real chaperone anyways, since you think I'll go ballistic and blow shit up. Tony's hungover too, and probably balls deep in either Steve or SI work, Bruce has to go shopping today and Steve's helping him. You don't want to let me out with Thor, do you?"

Clint slowly lifted his head, squinted at Emma.

"First of all, from the noises I've heard from upstairs, Tony bottoms, he's not balls deep in anyone. Second of all, I want to curl up in a pit and _die_ before my headache kills me. Be a sweetie and go get me an advil please," he said, rubbing his eye as he spoke. Emma sighed and rolled out of his bed, grabbed an advil package and threw it at his arm. "Thanks..."

"See, Natasha would not be as nice as I am."

"You're right, she would be as hungover as I am." Emma snorted and fetched him a glass of water.

"Drink."

Clint did as he was told, and sat up, took an advil too. He cracked his neck and his back popped when he stretched. Emma watched him silently, her eyes boring into his skull.

"Why aren't you on a mission with Nat?"

There it is. That horrible fucking question. Clint sighed, and was just about to tell her his well practiced lie, when he looked at her. And she looked so much like Natasha, her eyes curious and worried, and fuck, he couldn't lie to her.

"Because I haven't gotten my security clearance back. I've skipped my therapy sessions since we got back," he confessed. Emma frowned.

"That's fucking stupid, dude," she groaned. "If you don't get your security clearance, that means you're giving up being an Avenger too? _Duuude_."

"What? No! Of course not!"

"So you're good enough to be an Avenger, but not enough to work for Shield?" Emma said, raising an eyebrow. "You can't just say you're staying behind to 'watch the kid', because now Bucky is fully capable of tending to me, without you guys having to be scared of him killing me or me killing him."

"I..."

"And besides," Emma interrupted, "I've seen you in the training rooms, you're really good, even after losing one of your senses." She said the last part a little softer, tilting her head at him. Clint swallowed.

"I'm good, but I'm not good enough," he grumbled. Emma blinked.

"What the fuck? You can shoot a penny off my head if I asked you to!"

"No, I can't, not anymore," Clint said, angrily. His head was throbbing, and being pissed at himself wasn't helping. Emma bit her lip.

"When was the last time you shot and Natasha was just there?"

"Uh... Like, before the mission where life went wrong?" he said, tilted his head in confusion.

"Well, why don't you try that? You won't fail with her there."

"How the fuck do you know I won't?"

"Because you won't," Emma said, shaking her head. "If we're not going to the park, we're going to an arcade or something. Something dumb, like a batting range, or something father-daughter bondy-thing, because I have never done something like that, and you sure as hell haven't, and if I'm doing something new, I want you to be just as clueless as I am."

\---

Peter Parker was a calm little boy. Miranda didn't doubt for a second that he would be able to adapt to whatever circumstances but she still had to do a check on the tower. She had been granted security clearance per Tony's request, and she had inspected the building thoroughly. It seemed the only thing that Peter could actually be harmed from, was kept on the lower floors, which he would never get to visit, Steve and Tony assured her. He wasn't going to be allowed into Tony's lab either, or Dr. Banner's lab.

The environment seemed safe enough to place a child in.

So, she felt confident when she walked in with Peter in his carseat, and a bag over her shoulder with the necessary papers. She got into the elevator and pressed a button, going up. Peter made a little noise, gurgling like usual. He seemed curious about this new environment.

When the doors opened, she was in a kitchen, where a little girl with fiery hair and a muscled man with blonde hair were arguing about something, more of a playful banter than actual arguing.

"It's chocolate, Clint, and you're being an ass," the little girl said from her place on the kitchen island, and kicked the man making pancakes in the butt.

"Hey, feet off the goods! I'm just saying, whipped cream, sugar, syrup, bananas, there are a lot of options," the man chuckled, Clint it was. "Now get your ass off the counter and sit down." Miranda cleared her throat, and both of them looked up at her, the man putting a plate of pancakes in front of the girl.

"Hi, how did you get up here?" Clint asked the strange woman in his kitchen. Well, the tower's kitchen, but whoever was cooking at the moment had the right to claim the kitchen as theirs. She put down a carseat on the floor, with a cute little baby in it, looking up at them with his tiny hazel eyes.

"Hi, I'm Miranda, are Steve and Tony around?" she asked. "I kind of have a delivery." She looked him up and down, probably in a way that she thought was subtle, but he could see it, and Emma stabbed her pancake loudly, so she probably saw it too.

"Yeah they are, right Jarvis?" Emma said without taking her eyes off Miranda.

"Indeed."

"You've sent for them?"

"Yes, miss," he said. "Sir should be coming up from his workshop in three, two, one-" A door opened to reveal the stairs down to Tony's workshop, and Tony came more or less rushing in, in a black t-shirt, a more or less clean pair of jeans, and a grease stain on the side of his face. When he saw Miranda, he lit up immediately.

"Miranda! Hi! Oh, look, you've got Peter too!" He approached and crouched by Peter's carrier, unbuckling him and picking him up. "Miranda, this is Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, aka a fellow team member, and his daughter, Emma," Tony said, and Peter grabbed his thumb with his little hand, gurgling happily at seeing a familiar face. "Barton, Emma, this is Peter."

Emma actually left her food with a coo, standing next to Tony and smiling at Peter.

"He's adorable!" she squealed. Clint just stood there, not sure if he should move or not. Peter was really fucking cute like any baby, with cute chubby cheeks and small hands.

"Petey, this is your... Well, I'd like to say cousin, but she's going to love you like a little brother," Tony explained, and Peter seemed as mesmerized as an infant could be by Emma's hair, and he even reached out to it, but Emma let him take a hold of her finger instead. When he did, she cooed again.

"What is that noise?" Clint said with a grin, and Emma glared at him.

"He's so cute, Clint, I can't help it!" she said. "I bet Steve will make the same noise!"

"No betting," Tony cut in, and both Emma and Clint whined. The elevator doors opened, and Steve stepped out, all sweaty and with Bucky just as sweaty behind him. Tony made a keening sound at the sight of Steve, and Bucky's face twisted into a small grin.

"You're never prepared for that," Emma remarked, and saw Miranda's jaw drop a little, before she blushed, sighing quietly. "And, yes, the hot ones are always gay."

"Hey!" Clint said, and Emma hopped back to her pancakes as Steve and Tony played with Peter. Bucky sat down next to her when she laughed.

"You swing both ways!"

"What, did I accidentally come out of the closet in my sleep again? Because according to Nat, I tend to do that," Clint said, and Emma just shrugged.

"I kinda figured it out. You know, your looks directed at Steve's ass aren't that subtle."

"Oh, come on! I'm a red-blooded american, of course I want to fuuuu-" he gave Steve a glance, "frick frack Captain America. It's not a fair comparison."

"That is not a fair comparison, as his ass is mine," Tony agreed, and gripped Steve's ass, underlining his statement. Steve blushed, and grabbed the child carrier, shuffled it and Miranda into the elevator.

"Let's settle this somewhere else. Come on Tony," he said. Tony and Peter followed, and Bucky walked to the fridge, swallowing half a gallon of lemonade in one gulp.

Clint's eyes flicked down to Bucky's ass, which looked surprisingly sweet in those sweats, and Emma raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm trysexual, so sue me," Clint grinned, and Emma held her hands up, saw Bucky's shoulders tense just a little.

"You do you, man," she said.

"I thought you and Romanoff were hooking up?" Bucky asked, tried for a casual tone. Barton looked surprised.

"Uhh... No."

"Not yet," Emma said, stuffing her face with pancakes. "I'm working on it."

Bucky snorted.

"You shouldn't go diggin' in others business, Em," he muttered.

"Now, where's the fun in _that_?" she said, mock offended. Bucky didn't answer, he just rolled his eyes, and Clint placed a pancake platter in front of him too.

"Eat. I made like a shit-ton too many because Emma can't control herself," Clint said, and Bucky just stared at the pancakes when Clint turned the stove off, took his own plate and leaned on the counter. Bucky didn't touch the plate, and Clint didn't seem bothered, but Emma was.

"Bucky, it's not poisoned. I promise. It's actually good. Please eat," she said, and Bucky gave her a long stare. She pointedly poked him in the side. "I can feel your ribs very clearly. Please eat."

He sighed, so quietly it was barely noticeable, and picked his fork up, began eating.

After breakfast, Emma and Clint did go to an amusement park, it was called Six Flags. They were unlike any other family there, but Emma finally had someone she could permanently call family. Well, hopefully permanently. She wasn't that naive, although she kind of wished she was.

Clint proved that while his aim wasn't the way he wanted it to be, it was still good enough to win Emma one of the big teddy bears, and at the end of the warm summer day, they were riding their last ride, the ferris wheel. Emma had named the bear James Cuddleston, and Clint thought that was just about the cutest thing he'd heard in a long time.

Emma was leaning on her bear, licking her ice cream lazily. She was happy, and content, Clint was an awesome dad. He spoiled her like a champ, and she thought that she could totally get used to being Hawkeye and the Black Widow's child.

"Hey Clint?"

"Yeah, kid?" he asked, turning his blue gaze from the view to her.

"Do you think that Bucky will ever stop being as suspicious about us as he is now?" Clint thought for a moment, hummed.

"I don't know. I used to think that he'd never ever change and that we'd find him dead on his bedroom floor from malnourishment or plain starvation. But after you? Hell, he could end up a suburban dad with a nice wife and three kids and a mini-van," he said, and Emma laughed.

"I don't magically cure PTSD."

"No, but you never shut up either. That's pretty great. It helps when people don't expect you to talk, they just talk to you, you know?" Emma scoffed.

"I have always talked to myself. Felt safer that way. The only thing that's ever felt constant was me, not my body, but my voice. My way of thinking. I love talking because the sound of my own voice is comforting for me. Because at the end of the day, all you have is yourself, and that has to be enough." She took a vicious bite out of the cone. Clint looked at her in stunned silence, and then he shook his head, turned to face the view again.

"That's really depressing."

"What? No it's not."

"Yeah, it is Em. You're, like, twelve, you should be playing in the grass and not be thinking about that kind of deep stuff."

"I guess I like to question the concrete."

"You're a little Bruce in the making, dear god, what are we going to do?" Clint groaned dramatically, and Emma laughed when his phone rang. He hauled it out of his pocket, and Emma ate the end of the cone, licking her fingers. "Y'eallow. Hi Tony. Congrats. Yeah, totally. Awesome. Sweet. We'll be back in like half an hour, ish. Uh-hu. Right. Hawk glidin' out," he said and hung up.

Emma laughed.

"Alright. Are we going home?"

"Yeah. We gotta go, hon."

\---


	24. Bucky's Alone Time And Angry Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry! I've been so out of it lately... I've been digging into the Spideypool fandom. It's great. I'm horrendously stuck reading fanfics. Sorry for the delay!  
> Any comments and kudos very appreciated, it makes me so happy when I see the notifications, thank you for all the support I've recieved on my first chapter fic!  
> Enjoy!

 

Since Emma was out for the day, and Thor was now out shopping with Banner, and Steve and Tony were adopting children, Bucky had the common floor all to himself. That was odd. There was always someone with him, always someone to chaperone him, or make sure he didn't kill anything. If none of the Avengers were watching him, Jarvis was.

But now he was alone, and maybe Jarvis was watching him, but he wasn't being chatty, so Bucky just sat at the dinner table, a coffee mug in hand as he tossed small pieces of paper over the kitchen island and into the open trash bin.

His body was itching to do something else than just train, to just shoot. He needed the action, the adrenaline. His joints were almost beginning to feel stiff, he wasn't one for the stay at home lifestyle, and he sure as hell wasn't one for kids. He'd just have to avoid Peter a lot.

He could do that.

Suddenly the elevator bell dinged, and Steve came walking in, rubbing his eyes with a quiet smile.

"Hey," he said, and Bucky nodded at him, tossed another crumpled piece of paper into the trash. Steve sat down at the table with him, sighed with a grin. "I'm officially a dad."

"Congratulations," Bucky said. Steve chuckled.

"Never thought I'd see the day." When Bucky didn't reply, Steve looked down on his hands. "Miranda is going to come back in two weeks. Check in on Peter. As soon as she left, Peter went out like a light on Tony's stomach. Tony fell asleep a few minutes after. I feel really lucky to have them both."

"I don't really get it," Bucky said suddenly. Steve looked confused, his blue eyes searching for hatred in his friends demeanor. But none could be found.

"Get what?"

"Get how you and Stark work together. You're basically opposites." Steve laughed quietly.

"I guess... Opposites attract. Like magnets. Love is weird that way," he said with a soft smile, and intertwined his hands, looking a little flushed. A memory floated to the surface of Bucky's mind.

"I remember something," Bucky said suddenly, and Steve looked up hopefully.

"You do?" he said, his face lit up with glee.

"You're a dork." Steve's face dropped.

"What?" Bucky snorted, in a way that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"You thought 'fondue' meant..." He started chuckling to himself, and it was the most relaxed and generally gleeful Bucky had been with only Steve present.

"That was over seventy years ago!" Steve exclaimed, a look of desperation on his face. "Of all the things you could have remembered! Of. All. The. Things! Am I ever going to live that down?!"

"Heh... Ehehe... No..." Bucky chuckled, and Steve gave up an exasperated noise that only made Bucky chuckle louder, and soon enough Steve was laughing too, and Bucky felt this tiny little warm thing in the pit of his stomach that kindled a lot of old fires he quickly stomped out.

Steve grinned at him.

"I thought it sounded reasonable then."

"I never understood how you ever thought of that."

"It was a complete misunderstanding inbetween Howard and Peggy and me," Steve sighed at the mention of his old friends. Bucky blinked.

"Peggy..." he said slowly, a memory flaring in his head. "She was kickass."

Steve snorted out a laugh.

"You picking up Emma's vocabulary now?" he asked. Bucky shrugged.

"She rubs off." Steve settled back in his chair, smiling at being able to connect with Bucky again.

"She must be a great help. With, you know, surviving in the twenty-first century. Tony has helped me a lot, but I still don't get all of the references, or the jokes, or how to work those darn smartphones."

"I don't have one of those."

"You really don't want one, all I'm saying," Steve said.

"Sergeant Barnes has one of the newest Starkphones in pieces on his bathroomfloor," Jarvis alerted them both, and Steve grinned at Bucky, who shrugged.

"It talked to me!" Bucky said in his defence.

"Right, right," Steve smiled. That was actually not at all what had happened. Bucky's arm, when it wasn't this light or this new, had had one of it's strange twitches, and the phone had crumbled in his hand. It never twitched anymore.

He flexed the fingers of his metallic arm, and the elevator bell dinged again. Wow, that thing was used so frequently, did the tower not have stairs?

Stark being Stark, it probably didn't.

Pepper Potts entered the room, holding a tablet in her arm, typing furiously on her phone.

"Steve, hi sweetie, where's Tony?" she asked kindly, laying her phone down on the tablet. Bucky looked down on her shoes, they always made him suspicious, as they were as sharp and pointy as murder weapons. He wondered if Stark had any marks from those shoes.

"He's sleeping, why, does he have someplace where he should be?" Steve asked, a small frown on his features.

"Yes, in fact, he does," Pepper sighed. "A board meeting. He wanted the numbers from Florida, and he's going to get them. All he has to do is come to the damn board meeting."

"Well, he's sleeping. And so is Peter," Steve said softly. Pepper lit up.

"You guys have Peter?" she said, her voice warm and soft.

"We do!" Steve replied in an equally soft tone. What was it with people's voices getting all soft and squishy when they talked about babies?

"Oh, I have to see him!" she said. The elevator dinged again, jesus christ, it was getting crowded, Bucky wanted to get the hell out of here.

Stark came in, running his hand through his wild bed-head hair whilst the other hand supported Peter's still sleeping form. Pepper cooed, because that was the best way to describe it, and carefully walked over to Tony and Peter. She was being careful as to not let her shoes wake the little sleeping boy up.

"Oh, Tony, he's beautiful!" she cooed, ran a soft hand down Peter's head.

"I know," Tony said, with a soft smile, and Bucky glanced over at Steve, who looked like he was going to melt into a pile of emotional  goop. Yup, Bucky really needed to get out of here before his friend started crying. 

He stood up, and was just about to leave when Jarvis spoke up.

"Sir, Agent Romanoff is back from her mission," Jarvis said, almost carefully.

"Oh? 'S she okay?" Tony asked, noticing his AI's careful tone.

"She has requested that Agent Barton come to their quarters immediately. When I told her his whereabouts, she threatened me with her Widow Bites. I suggest calling Agent Barton as soon as possible," Jarvis noted.

"Is she hurt?" Steve asked worriedly, and ran a hand over Tony's back gently, as if reassuring himself that it wasn't Tony that was hurt. Bucky had noticed that about Steve, he liked to reassure himself that everyone he knew was fine once in a while, that they weren't hurt. He could do that by touching them lightly, or with Tony, press kisses to their cheeks or temple, seeking confirmation through touch. Bucky found it fascinating.

"I believe so, but she says that she requires no assistance but that of Agent Barton," Jarvis said. Tony grumbled.

"Well, Nat is one hell of an assassin, she could take me out as soon as I got inside her room. The only one probably able to match her without killing her is Barton. I'm calling him," he said, picking up his phone carefully as to not startle Peter. He dialed his number without looking, and Bucky snuck back to the elevator as he did.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked, curious, not suspicious, Bucky had to remind himself.

"Down," Bucky replied as the doors closed. He leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh.

The Avengers were strange house-mates.

\---

When Emma and Clint got back to the tower, and Clint found out that Natasha was hurt and that no one had helped her yet? He was pissed.

Like, break-the-glass-walls-as-he-ran-into-the-elevator-mad. Emma would have been scared had she not been almost as pissed and ran with him, just not breaking the glass wall on the way.

Clint was seething in the elevator until they reached their own floor, and he stormed out of there and across the living room.

"Nat?" he called, slamming his room door open. And there, on his bed, was Natasha, her short red hair swept to the side and with a bloody needle in her bloody hands, stitching up a huge cut in her right arm. "Jesus fuck, Nat!"

She looked up, and gave him a weak smile.

"Is she okay?" Emma asked in the doorway, hugging her teddybear tightly.

"She'll be fine, go to your room for a second, okay Em?" Clint said quickly, more or less blocking her view of Natasha. "It's okay. I'll be out in a minute. Alright?" Emma nodded carefully.

"Hi Nat!" she called behind Clint.

"Hi Emma," Natasha said back, her voice as smooth as ever. That comforted Emma, and she let them be, only hearing Clint's mumbling as she closed the door.

"Jesus christ Tash, why haven't you let someone help you?" he asked, assessing the damage. Three knife slashes, one on her right arm, one on her thigh and one on her shoulder. The only deep one was the one on her arm, and she was stitching it up on her own. He moved behind her, and found two whip marks on her back, red and searing with blood. Her wrists were pretty roughed up too, and bruises would most definitely paint her slim wrists tomorrow.

Natasha cut the thread off with one of her knifes, and made a face when Clint's fingers ghosted over the marks on her back, not quite flinching, but nearly.

"I hate Shield's sick bay as much as you do, I just suck it up and don't pout about it," she said, the only thing betraying her pain being the slight curve of her plump lips, where she also had a cut. "Plus, you know I hate when people I barely know stand behind me with sharp objects in their hands." Clint snorted.

"What about the other Avengers?" he asked and grabbed a bottle of vodka which he had left under his bed last night, handed it to Nat before grabbing the first aid kit she had spread out on the bed.

"You do it better."

"You mean I use better alcohol," Clint corrected. She took a long sip of the vodka.

"You're right. That's exactly what I mean."

Clint chuckled as he began tending to her other wounds, helping her peel out of her catsuit when needed. Natasha quietly told him about the mission that had been more or less a suicide mission without any real back-up.

The lousy back-up she'd had, was called Agent Johnsson, and had been snatched from his safe spot, and since they just kept on coming, she had been overpowered and captured. She could only fight off so many at the same time. She let herself suffer through some torture before they told her what she needed to know.

Then she had beaten the absolute shit out of them and grabbed her shitty back-up and bolted.

Well, that wasn't what she had said, but it's what Clint assumed she had done. When she said 'neutralized', she always meant 'beat the absolute shit out of them'.

"Johnsson?" Clint asked carefully as he dabbed the small cut on her lip.

"Don't 'make him go away'," Natasha scolded, as always reading his mind. "He tried his best. We both got out alive, and that's what matters."

Clint gritted his teeth but wisely enough didn't say a thing. Natasha was now wearing one of his grey t-shirts, as her suit was in a bloody pile on the floor, and he knew that he shouldn't be admiring how small she looked in his shirt, but he did. Because Natasha in his shirt was warming his heart up to about a hundred and fifty-three degrees.

"Please come back into the field with me?" Natasha said quietly. Clint stopped wrapping her wrists, and looked up at her, her green eyes shining with that kind light she only showed a few people. He was so glad he was one of them.

"Come with me when I do my shooting test for Shield, then." A smile spread on Natasha's lips.

"Deal."

\---


	25. Clean Up Crew And Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't nearly as exciting as the title is.  
> Enjoy the read, lovelies! <3

 

As soon as Peter met Natasha, he more or less fell in love, in the most baby way possible. It could have to do with the fact that she was the only full grown woman on the team, or maybe the fact that Natasha wasn't skittish at all as she held him, and Clint had to be amazed.

Natasha had told him many times that she never wanted children, and that she couldn't have them, and that she couldn't care for them. But when she had Peter on her hip as she made toast and spoke to him quietly, well, he had to admit, she had been lying.

She was great with kids, and that made his heart flutter a little. The whole team watched with fascination safely from the kitchen table as she carefully plucked a glass down from the cabinet to her right, as to not rip her stitches up.

"Why do you think they're staring at me, Peter?" Natasha suddenly asked Peter, and the other Avengers quickly busied themselves with something else as she turned around. Of course, Clint's non-suspicious whistling and Tony's humming really didn't help their 'we're not staring' cause. "Guys. I have been a trained spy for years. Don't even try me."

"You're a natural," Bruce said, the bravest one to speak of the five men.

"It's not really that hard. He's not a bomb," she said, but to Clint, it sounded like she was reminding herself more than scolding them. "And I might as well get along with him. He'll be living here longer than I will." Peter squealed and Natasha regarded him like she would an unknown opponent, and Clint was now grinning from ear to ear.

He was just about to say something to make Nat roll her eyes, when the alarm went off.

"Uh oh," he said instead, already standing up.

"Your child," Natasha said and handed Steve Peter before she and Clint were walking towards the elevators.

"Whoa, Nat, where are _you_ going?" Clint asked, stopping her as Bruce snuck past them, taking the elevator instead.

"I'm going out to fight," Natasha spelled out to him, her voice calm and slow, as if she was talking to a child.

"Nuh-uh, not with that shoulder," he said, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"I can still kick your ass, Barton, and if you think that you get to decide where I go and when I go, you are very wrong, now _go get your bow_ ," she said with that stubborn glint in her eye that made Clint realize that she was not going to back down.

He groaned, and the elevator bell dinged right before one of Tony's suits broke the kitchen window, and it scanned his bracelets, and then it just swallowed him. Thor held his hand out, and Mjölnir came flying through the broken window with a whooshing and a force that shouldn't be possible, but he caught it before swinging out with a jolly laugh.

The elevator opened, and Emma and Bucky came storming in.

"I think it's a very bad idea!" Emma was squealing, but Bucky wasn't listening, he walked right up to Steve, and looked at him long and hard.

"I want to come with you."

That silenced everyone, except Emma, who huffed loudly.

"I'm feelin' no," Tony said, and his faceplate flipped open. Peter was confused, and looked as if he was going to start crying, so Steve rocked him, but kept his blue eyed stare on Bucky.

"Jarvis, what level of danger is this threat?" Steve asked instead.

"I recommend that all of the Avengers assemble," Jarvis stated. Steve bit his lip.

"Okay. You can come with us." Bucky lit up, but quickly dimmed again.

"Right. Thank you," he said, and Emma groaned loudly.

"What am I supposed to do when you guys go off saving the world then?" she whined.

"Jay, tell Pepper to come to the common room, Emma and Petey are staying here and they need to be safe, if the fighting comes anywhere near the tower, get them into a safe room, okay?" Tony said, and Steve placed Peter in his high chair, kissing the soft bundle.

"Of course, Sir," Jarvis said, and now Clint and Natasha were off, after hurried goodbyes. Emma just stood there as Tony told a bad pun about Bucky needing to be 'armed and dangerous, hah, _armed_ , get it Steve', before they were off too, and she and Peter were the only two left in the kitchen.

"Well, Petey, my little man, I hate to break it to you, but... Your dads' are superheroes," Emma deadpanned, and Peter just blinked at her with his baby eyes, and squealed. "Right. You don't get it yet. Because you're just a baby."

She sighed and sat down by the table next to him. Peter babbled in a way that only babies could, banging his hands into the table. Emma laughed.

"I bet you and the Hulk would get along brilliantly," she said, and he bobbed his head, like he was listening to music she couldn't hear. "You know, I usually hang out with adults, so I don't really know how to act around you. Almost functioning adults, too. I wonder if Bucky will hold you before you grow up. He's really only touched me, and not in a creepy way, of course I would have blown his head off, or his arm. You'd love his arm, it's really shiny. Babies love shiny things, don't they? They're like crows."

Emma had been talking so much, she hadn't noticed when Pepper arrived, and only noticed when Pepper cleared her throat.

"Oh. Hi Pepper." Pepper smiled and sat down in front of her, and next to Peter, who yet again marveled at the sight of red hair. He made grabby hands, and Pepper stroked his baby cheek.

"Hi you guys. So, what do you want to do while the others are working?" she asked softly. Emma scoffed.

"'Working'? Sure. Let's call it that," she said. She was quiet for a while. "Bucky went with them."

"I thought so, otherwise they wouldn't have called for me, right?" Pepper smiled. Emma straight out laughed this time.

"You think that Tony and Steve would leave _me and Bucky_ in charge of the baby boy they only got today?" she asked, baffled. "We would have accidentally broken him." Pepper blinked.

"Good point," she murmured. "Are you worried?"

"About what?"

"About Bucky. I know you two are pretty close." Emma stared at Pepper. The only one able to understand this weird feeling in her stomach would probably be Pepper, having to deal with Tony, her best friend, going out and risking his life. Tony being so impulsive must not help calm her down.

"Yeah. I'm worried. About all of them. But Bucky? What if he has a flashback in the middle of it all, and he gets shot and he dies? People I like tend to drop dead a whole lot, or disappear off the face of the earth." Pepper took one of Emma's hands in both of hers, and gave her a weak smile.

"I know exactly how you're feeling, sweetie, believe me. Tony has been to the brink of death and back so many times I've lost count. But they come back. Bruised, battered, broken, they come back. And when they do, we're the clean-up crew. That's just as important as going out there. And Bucky knows how to handle himself. He won't get distracted. He's a big boy."

Emma nodded carefully when Peter started fussing, and rubbing his eyes.

"It would seem that it is time for Master Peters nap," Jarvis offered. Pepper carefully picked the little boy up, and placed him on her hip.

"Right. Got it. Don't break anything while I'm gone," Pepper said and gave Emma a look. Emma grinned.

"I won't. I promise." Pepper nodded and walked over to the elevator, that opened for her.

"Oh, and Em?"

"Mhm?"

"There is an action cam in Tony's suit if you want to verify that they're okay. Just ask Jarvis," she said.

"Oh. Thanks Pepper," Emma replied, and Pepper gave her a warm smile before walking into the elevator. "Jay, you heard the brilliant woman, do what she said," Emma said and quickly bounced into the common room, just in time to see the tv screen flicker on.

"Of course, miss," Jarvis said, his voice almost... Amused? Emma didn't think about it that much, until her eyes landed on the screen. 

"What the actual fuck?" she burst out laughing, and plopped down on the couch. "Shit, Jay, can I get some popcorn in here without moving? I need to see every moment of this. This is golden."

\---

'What the actual fuck' had been Clint's initial reaction too, as they were fighting an _army of robotic deer with laser eyes_. Some maniac had released them and called himself 'Deer Devil' (Clint had already teased the small man in a very bad replica of Tony's suit about his alias).

As cliché as that sounded, the deers were actually doing tons of damage, since there were at least two-hundred of them. The guy must own a factory, or at least have somewhere to store all these fucking deer.

"Someone got a clear shot at the controller yet? Or an eye on the target at least?" Natasha asked in her comm as she and Clint chased two deers down, him shooting it down with one of his exploding arrows, and her frying the deer's circuits with her Widow Bites.

"Nope!" Tony said as he picked Steve off the ground to save his suit and him from being fried. He dropped him back down carefully next to another herd of deer, or whatever you call a group of deer, much more careful than if it had been Clint he had been carrying.

"Hey Nat, what do you call a group of deer?" Clint suddenly asked, and grabbed another explosive arrow as the Hulk roared past them, smashing metallic deer out of the way as he went. Natasha ducked as one flew past them, but a wayward leg smacked Clint right in the head, and he yelped in pain and surprise. 

"I'm pretty sure you just call them a herd," Natasha said, reloading her Widow Bites.

"So this is a herd of robotic deer?" Clint clarified, whilst rubbing his forehead, where he would no doubt have a mark tomorrow. He shot the nocked arrow behind them, and the deer that had been charging for them exploded.

"We could call it a murder of robotic deer, like with crows," Tony offered as he used his repulsors to fry the deer coming at him and Bucky, that was standing underneath him. Thor was laughing like Santa Claus when he whooshed by, Mjölnir crackling with electricity.

"They call a group of crows 'a murder'? That is... Just... Awesome," Clint remarked in awe, and had it not been for Natasha shocking the deer coming at them, he would have been kicked in the head. 

"Hawkeye," Natasha snapped in her widow voice, and that got Clint right out of his murder thoughts.

"Hm? Right, saving New York, I'm on it," he said and shot her a grin before running around the corner of a tattered building. The deer epidemic had broken out right on the streets of New York, and they were at least trying to limit it to a few blocks.

The Z-list villain that was doing this, had disappeared, but as soon as Clint rounded that corner, he saw the little guy. He was short, really short, and a little chubby, which meant that Clint could outrun him easily. The guy was holding the controller that controlled all the deer, and so Clint decided that if he was going to put an end to all this robotic abuse he had to suffer, he had to get the remote, or break it.

Meh, breaking it seemed the easier way to go.

He quickly took a shot at the controller, and the man holding it let out a very not-so-manly squeak, before he dropped it and started running. Why he did that, Clint didn't know. He just assumed he'd scared the guy, until Tony came around the corner.

"Barton, wait!" Tony called just as Clint began running after the villain.

All the rest of the team could hear was a 'boom'.

"Fuck!" Clint exclaimed, before the com frizzled, and Tony felt the shockwave hit him, pressing the armor against him, and pressing him against a wall. The HUD flickered, and cleared up again, and Tony groaned as he got out of the Iron Man shaped crater in the cement wall.

"Shit. Jarvis, how we doing? All limbs and tech okay?" he muttered.

"Hawkeyes comm seems to be broken, Sir," Jarvis alerted him.

"Tony? Are you okay?" Steve's worried voice rang through the noise of the battle.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I'm just dandy, Barton seems to have taken a hit though," he said, and started flying after the villain. The sooner they got the deers shut down, the better.

"Clint!" Natasha exclaimed, and shot two robots in the head. She had seen him just moments ago, this can't be happening, she had to find him now...

She turned around the corner and there he was, his bow beside him, and he was shaking, from pain or shock, she couldn't tell. He was holding something very small in his hands, and his blue eyes were filled to the brim with fear.

"Shit, Tasha, my hearing aids," he said, his eyes wide as Natasha sank down next to him, locking her eyes with his.

" **It's okay** ," she signed. **"You have your extras at home**." He swallowed hard, because he couldn't hear her voice, he couldn't hear anybody, he couldn't- he couldn't do this in the field, he couldn't lose himself in the field-

"Fuck. Fuck!" Clint exclaimed, and picked his bow up, shooting an arrow in one of the goddamned robot's face. "Shit. They're going to know about it. _Fuck_."

Natasha tapped his shoulder, and he turned to look at her, frowning as he did so.

" **It doesn't make you weak. It makes you stronger** ," she signed. He shook his head, still frowning, before shooting another robot deer down.

"Natasha? Is Clint okay?" Steve asked in the comm.

"Yeah, he's fine, the blast just mashed his comm," Natasha replied, shooting another deer. Tony landed on the ground, scanning his surroundings.

"Uh, I would like to disagree on that, my comms are supposed to survive that tiny shock wave," he said, mock offended.

"Well, it didn't fucking survive, watch your head," Natasha snapped back, and Tony was just about to ask why when a deer kicked his helmet. He stumbled forward, and Steve threw his shield at it, cutting the head off.

Bucky used his arm for leverage, and broke a deer's head off as he jumped over it.

"'S he okay, Romanoff?" Bucky asked, not with actual concern in his voice, but it still warmed Steve's heart.

"He's fine, behind you," she replied, and Bucky turned just in time to duck a deer's hooves and snap the legs off. He bashed the head in, and Clint laughed next to Nat. Tony saw something on his scans, and flew off again.

"Alright," Tony suddenly spoke up. "The controller didn't actually control their power source. The only way to get all of these deer the hell out, is to slice them all until they die. So, get going team! I'm going to bring this dude on the trip of his life: to Shield prison." Natasha caught the glimpse of red and gold going straight up into the air, and heard a faint scream.

"Okay Avengers," Steve said with a huff, and threw his shield. It bounced on three deers' necks before it returned to him. "Thor, Hulk, you two get rid of the ones in the two blocks to the right, Hawkeye, Widow, you two take the ones to the left, Buck and I will take care of these two blocks. As soon as you got everyone of them, check again and then come back to the middle and we'll see where we're needed."

"Got it," Natasha confirmed, quickly explained the plan to Clint too, who frowned as soon as she started signing.

"As you wish, Friend Steven," Thor replied as he flew off to the right.

"HULK SMASH!" Hulk roared and followed.

Bucky didn't even respond, he just kept wringing deers' necks with his metallic arm and breaking them in ways Steve didn't even know was possible.

\---


	26. Confessions And Bucky's Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I'm sorry for the long time it took for me to update, I've just been out of it. But here we are!  
> Also, I'm thinking of changing the title of the fic, although I'm not entirely sure into what. The title as it is now is really fuckin long, so I wanna make it shorter, maybe like '"It takes a villian" or something really tacky. Any suggestions or comments would be greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Plus, more than a hundred kudos and almost 2500 hits! DUDE. I'm so greatful for all you awesome readers who stick to me. Thank you so much.  
> Enjoy! <3

 

After almost an hour, they had helped string together all the deer. The murder of deer, as Clint was now calling it. Bucky was the first to notice that something was wrong with Clint, ironically enough.

He didn't say anything though, he just observed how Natasha's hands moved discreetly.

"Who even does some shit like this? Who makes a whole murder of robotic deer and releases them into the world? Who? Why?" he heard Barton say, and he squinted at him. "Was this you, Stark? I swear to God, you did this."

"I did not," Tony said over the comm, and Bucky saw Natasha's hands move again. "I would never make deer. I would make, like... Velociraptors. Or triceratops. Something with a better AI than this! And jetpacks." By Tony's suddenly thoughtful tone, it sounded like he was mapping it out in his mind.

"Don't even think about it," Steve said, and Bucky could hear the super solider's smile in his voice. Bucky heard the Iron Man boot jets above him, but his eyes were fixated on Natasha's hands.

"Tony coming," he mumbled to himself as he saw Natasha's fingers say just that. A few seconds later, Stark dropped a deer next to Clint, and Clint made thumbs up to Stark, who made thumbs up back before flying off.

Bucky used his metal arm to drag one of the deer into a pile next to Barton and Romanoff, and turned to Clint. Fear flickered over his features, and his eyes went to Bucky's mouth, because holy fuck, he wouldn't be able to hear him.

" **You have dust in your hair** ," Bucky signed instead of said, and Clint's eyes went wide as he slowly reached up to run a hand through his hair, revealing lots of dust, probably from the concrete wall crumbling behind him because of the explosion.

"Well... I guess I have to fix that," Clint said slowly, and Bucky nodded, before walking off again. "Well, shit."

" **You are going to tell them when we get back** ," Natasha signed. Clint frowned.

"I don't want to, Tash," he said, and his voice was laced with pain. Natasha frowned. She made sure he was looking at her face before pleading silently, mouthing the word. Clint's jaw tensed, and he groaned. "Don't try your fucking puppy eyes on me, I swear to God-"

Natasha placed a warm hand on his arm, and he groaned, louder this time.

"Fine! I will tell them, just-" he sighed loudly when she gave him a quiet smile that, to him, felt rewarding all in itself. He pointed a guilty finger her way. "You have used all of your allowed puppy eyes this month. No more."

" **Me? Puppy eyes? I don't know what you're talking about** ," she signed with feigned innocence, and Clint squinted at her.

"I got my eyes on you, Romanoff." Natasha gave him a small smile and turned around to a deer head, pushing it with her foot into the pile of deceased deer.

"God, I hope you do," she murmured.

\---

When Bucky first set foot on the common floor, he felt cold. It wasn't the same Winter Solider cold he had felt constantly before he had begun interacting with the other Avengers, but it wasn't that much different. It was a numbness to everything around him, the colors, the sun. And God, was it cold, a cold that made him more jumpy, more ready to run.

More ready to kill.

But then Emma came dashing in from the common room, and she tackled his stomach in a hug that almost knocked the air out of his lungs, and he felt the numbness, the Winter Solider's ice cold focus, scatter. It felt like he could breathe again as Emma pressed her tiny face into his chest, and had her tiny arms wrapped around his waist.

"I am so mad at you," she said into the firm muscled chest that was Bucky, her voice muffled. She pulled back and grabbed his face, running her hands over his face to check for injuries. "You are so mean to me. Why did you leave me?! How did it go dealing with all that ridiculous deer? No, nevermind, I don't wanna know!" She punched his chest, not hard, but hard enough to get him to laugh.

"You know, doll, it was ridiculous, you're right," he said, and Emma's eyes went wide at his smile.

"Geez, you okay, Buck? You do know your face muscles are moving like that, right?" she asked, and used her thumbs to widen his grin. He took her hands off his face, and suppressed the small smile that was fighting it's way onto his lips. Emma really was a great kid.

"You all alone here?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yeah, Pepper went off with Peter a long time ago for is nap, but I think she passed out with him. I'm not entirely sure, why?" she asked slowly, squinting at him.

"Just wondering. You eat yet?"

"No, as I said, Pepper went off with Peter, and I don't know how to make food," she said, and gestured to his hair. "Why is your hair all white?" He stared at her blankly. "You have something that looks like white powder in your hair. Geeze, you haven't even showered, have you? Puh, no wonder you smell like sweat. Go take a shower, and I'll let you make me a sandwich. _Go_. Shoo!"

She waved him off, and he smiled at the way she shook her head at him when she more or less pushed him into the elevator, clicking her tongue at him.

Clint and Natasha were showering and changing in their own quarters, Bruce was currently asleep in his lab, hulking out took a whole lot of energy, Thor was also refreshing, and Steve and Tony were worriedly landing on the landing pad on their floor, quickly rushing inside.

"Pepper?" Tony called out, and Pepper came out of their bedroom, shushing him before tapping away at her tablet.

"Peter is taking his nap. He wouldn't sleep, so I just gave him your old Captain America plushie, and he went out like a light," Pepper said without looking up from her tablet. Tony's eyes went wide.

"You did what?" Pepper looked up, faked innocence on her face.

"Tony's old what?" asked Steve, and dragged his cowl off his face. Pepper raised an eyebrow at Tony, who shrugged as the Iron Man suit was working its way off of him.

"When I came home from the hospital as a newborn, Howard gave me a Captain America plushie. I've, uh, kept it in my closet, until now apparently," Tony said and shot Pepper a sharp look.

"Oh, Tones, it smells like you and Steve do. It was comforting for him," she said softly, and Tony grumbled.

"You know that-"

"Yes, Tony," Pepper interrupted him softly. "I know it's important to you. But Peter likes the plushie, too. You have the real deal to save you now." She gave his mop of dark hair a kiss. "Okay. I have lots of stuff to do, I sent you an email about the charity gala, and Peter should be asleep for at least another ten minutes. I have to go, don't cause a scandal whilst I'm gone, thank you."

She waved at them, and stepped over to the elevator, already typing on her phone and setting stuff up. Aaah, what would Tony do without her? Steve pulled his suit off, and watched as Tony silently walked over to their bedroom door.

What he saw was melting his heart into a puddle of emotional goop.

Peter was laying on his back on their huge bed, the covers curled like a little nest around him, Barton would be proud of Pepper's nest making skills, and he was clutching the vintage Captain America plushie as tight to his chest as an infant could. He was sleeping in his Iron Man pjs, Pepper must have had a hoot putting those on him, Tony thought.

"Damn..." he said softly, and Steve joined him, wrapped an arm around his waist. He pressed a soft kiss to Tony's cheek, and the brunet snuggled into Steve's side. "He's going to be such a heartbreaker..."

Peter stirred in his sleep, and Steve and Tony were mesmerized, sat down on the bed, next to his little nest.

He opened his eyes and made a little sound.

"It's okay Pete, your papa and dad are home, safe and sound, just like you," Steve murmured and gave Peter's arm a gentle stroke.

And then Peter started to cry.

\---

"As much as I like Peter," Clint said to Natasha over the racket, "I really hate it when he cries." Steve and Tony were both fussing, doing everything they could and pampering with Peter to make him stop crying.

"Ditto!" Emma said loudly as she sat up in the couch. "Tony, Steve, please! My ears are about to die!"

 _Speaking of that, I'm deaf_ , Clint thought, and smirked as he got an idea.

He turned his spare hearing aids off. It turned blissfully silent, a silence he used to loathe. Natasha punched his arm, and mouthed something like 'you dick'. He just grinned at her. One plus side of being deaf: he doesn't have to hear Peter cry.

Bucky sat still next to Emma on the couch, looking stiff and uncomfortable. Natasha was lounging on the loveseat, and Clint was sitting on the armrest.

"Natasha please help?" Tony begged for the third time.

"I'm not magical just because I have breasts, Tony," Natasha called and changed the channel on the tv.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Tony, I'm certain. A child doesn't need one mother and one father, it needs loving people, no matter what gender," she said back. "And I think you need to learn how to comfort your child, since I won't always be around. I'm pretty sure I can't help anyways."

Suddenly, Bucky abruptly stood up, and walked over to them, took Peter from Steve's confused arms. Tony was about to stop him when Peter quieted down all of a sudden, apparently deeming Bucky the best of the three, and stared at the shiny metal arm that came out from the sleeve of Bucky's green t-shirt.

"Now shut it," Bucky said with little to no force to Peter, who stared up at Bucky, and then grabbed Bucky's shirt as he leaned his forehead against his neck, going completely silent.

"Okay, but am I allowed to question everything that just fucking happened?" Emma said after a few moments of stunned silence.

"Go ahead, I'm just as fucking confused as you are," Tony said, staring at Bucky holding his and Steve's son. The warning signs in Bucky's head were flaring red, and he had really not thought this through before he acted on it, he just wanted the small boy to stop crying to give his ears some peace.

He had never held a baby before, not that he would have remembered if he had. He had never held something as innocent and small and bare without the intention of breaking it. Bucky had killed small animals when he got stuck on the run or in a freezing forest as the Winter Solider, but now? He was holding a little boy that was also his friend's son. And the little boy was holding him back, like he wasn't aware of all the blood on his hands. Which, with him being an infant, he probably wasn't.

Then a memory lit up his mind, bouncing a small girl in his arms. His arms were scrawny, and both were flesh. He assumed it was a pre-Hydra memory, and decided to ignore it for the time being. Steve might overreact, make a big deal about it. Knowing Steve, he would make a big deal about it, and Bucky was not in the mood to handle an overreacting Steve, as he was holding his fucking child and he might be panicking.

"You wanted him to stop crying, right?" Bucky grumbled, and awkwardly shifted his weight as Peter dug his tiny grubby hands into Bucky's hair. "Oh, kiddo, if you pull, you are in for it," he murmured under his breath, but Peter didn't seem to understand or care, he just burrowed into Bucky, and stared at his dads.

"I... I'm speechless," Clint said. "And I can not hear shit." He pressed the button on his hearing aids, and they turned on again, and the others were staring at him with a newfound shock. Well, Tony and Steve were. Bruce was asleep, Thor was doing, well whatever he was doing, and the only people who didn't know in this room were Tony and Steve. "Right. I didn't tell you guys. I'm deaf."

They both stood silent for a few moments.

"Holy shit," Tony said suddenly. "You must have Shield hearing aids. That's why- ooooh, see, I told you so!" He pointed an accusing finger at Natasha, who gave him an unimpressed stare. "My comms don't give up after a tiny blast like that. I have to get a look at those."

"These are my spares, so no fucking touching, I'm not 'bout to break another pair," Clint said when Tony grabbed his face and yanked it to the side.

"Psh, you're not going to wear Shield tech in my tower!"

"Our tower," Steve scolded gently. Tony murmured something that nobody but Clint heard, but Clint snickered as Tony squinted at him.

"Alright. You're coming with me, Katniss," Tony said and grabbed Clint's arm, guided him towards the elevators.

"How long have you..." Steve asked carefully, being the polite little shit that he was.

"Been deaf? Oh, how long's it been Nat, like two months? I've found it all kinds of hell," Clint said with a nonchalant smile that Natasha saw right through.

 _This is it_ , he thought, _this is when Hawkeye gets his ass kicked out of the Avengers_.

"And you didn't tell us?" Steve said, looked dumbstruck. Clint shrugged, and Tony had stopped too, staring.

"That's... Rude as fuck," Tony stated. "Two months? I thought we were pals! I left my kid with your kid, I thought we were at least terrified dads together!"

"'Terrified dads'?" Emma said from the couch, one eyebrow raised. Bucky was still holding Peter, nearly squinting at the little kid who was making a face at him.

Clint made a dismissive gesture at her and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"I guess... I, uh, didn't want you guys to think of me as-as not good enough, or whatever."

"Not good enough?" Steve echoed, completely incredulous. "You mean that when we were out on a mission, you had lost one of your senses, and you were still fighting with us?"

"Uh... Yes? I guess?" Clint replied. He hadn't thought of it in the way that Steve did, all heroic and 'for the better good'. He just wanted to do what he did best: shoot stuff.

"Wow, that's so inspiring," Steve said tentatively, and placed a warm hand on Clint's shoulder.

"Alright, enough with the mushy mush, I need to look at Shields shitty tech," Tony interrupted after a few moments of silence.

Thank God for Tony Stark, was all that Clint thought when Tony dragged him into the elevator, talking mechanical nonsense that made no sense to Clint as they started their quick descent.

\---


	27. Firsts And Movie Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers!  
> This is a hella long chapter because I couldn't stop writing. Sorry not sorry.  
> Your kudos and comments keep me breathing, thank you so much!  
> Enjoy the read!

 

Clint's new hearing aids were, all in all, awesome. They could almost resist a blow from the Hulk(even though Tony wasn't happy with the 'almost', Clint needed his aids to hear again and would not give Tony three more hours), and see-through, so that if Clint didn't want anybody to know, they wouldn't.

Everyone went back to their own business. It was great, Emma and Bucky and Bruce were watching Friends in the common room, and Emma had her head leaning against Bruce's shoulder as he sleepily talked to them, and her legs in Bucky's lap.

She felt like she had never been anywhere safer.

"Dr. Banner, I apologise for my intrusion, but Captain Rogers is in need of your assistance," Jarvis said suddenly, lowering the volume of the tv enough to get their attention.

"Is he okay?" Bruce asked and stood up, made Emma topple unceremoniously onto the couch.

"Captain Rogers and Master Peter are... Fine," Jarvis said, although he didn't say it as calm as he usually would.

"Okay then," Bruce said slowly to the ceiling. Then he gave Emma a sheepish smile, and she just waved him off.

"Go. Go and save the world, or possibly Steve's evening," she said and Bruce nodded quickly as he dashed out of the room.

"Who's that?" Bucky asked suddenly, and pointed to the screen with the hand wasn't resting on Emma's ankle. Emma sighed.

"Paul the wine guy. We do _not_ like him," she replied and sat up, wrapped Bucky's metallic arm around her instead and nestled closer into him. Bucky had gotten more accustomed to how easily Emma acted around him, and even the occasional hug and cuddle, but now he realized that she really liked him.

Emma wasn't scared of him, sure, but he hadn't honestly thought that she really liked him. That she thought enough of him to snuggle this close to him, bury herself in the crook of his arm.

As she leeched the Winter Solider warmth, ironical as it was, she noticed his fond gaze at her.

"And why not?" Bucky asked, and looked back up at the screen as soon as he realized that she was looking back.

"Because he's a dick," Emma replied simply.

"You still like Barton." She looked up at him with shock.

"Was... Was that a joke!?" she suddenly exclaimed. "Did Bucky just crack a joke about Clint being a dick?! This is like a baby's first words! Holy shit, you just outdid Pete, no matter what he says. Unless it's also 'Clint is a dick' in which you guys would be tied, and Tony would probably suffocate because he's laughing so hard. Jarvis, mark this day down as historical."

"Note created," Jarvis replied, and the invisible smile was evident in his voice. "Dr. Banner seems to need your assistance in Peter's room."

"Oh? Us? Are you sure?" Emma asked with both eyebrows raised. "Me? And Bucky? Like, for an emergency?" Bucky looked almost as puzzled as she did.

"Dr. Banner requested Sergeant Barnes and Miss Emma's assistance," Jarvis repeated. "Am I speaking to someone else?"

"Don't you sass me," Emma said with a laugh and got up. "Alrighty. Upsie daisy Buck, we're going to save the world."

"I already did that today," he remarked as they walked into the elevator, and Emma cackled.

"Damn, I struck gold when I found you," she snickered. "Movie marathons, cool knifes, cute humor, Russian cursing... I bet you would be that cool uncle that snuck beer underneath the table to you at family gatherings." Bucky just looked confused. "...Nevermind. Steve would kill you if you were. And Tony would too. And possibly Bruce."

The doors opened and they stepped out on Tony and Steve's floor.

Of course, baby toys were littering the floor, and Emma saw a special plushy replica of Steve's shield that she decided would 'go missing' before Peter could get too attached to it.

"In young Master Peter's bedroom, miss, Sergeant," Jarvis said. They followed the angry hushed voices into a room Emma knew very well.

Peters room looked different when it had furniture in it, and the pale blue walls were now decorated with the kind of pale colored shit baby rooms almost always had. In the middle of the room was a crib, and to the left was a changing table, where almost the entire Avengers team was huddled.

"You don't-"

"I can't-"

"For gods sake-"

"Just let me-"

They were all arguing, and Emma could see a mountain of ripped diapers on the floor, not a single one of them used.

Emma cleared her throat loudly, but to no avail. Bucky sighed and banged his metallic arm loudly on Peter's metal crib, making a hell of a racket. The Avengers quieted down, and turned to stare at him. "Hi guys," Emma said.

"Emma? Bucky? You think they'll be able to help? Really, Banner?" Clint said, eyeing them dubiously.

"I think we're right about that desperate, Barton," Bruce said back with an eyeroll, and Bucky folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm useless in whatever area this is. I can hold a baby like it ain't a bomb, s'nt mean I still don't think it is one," he said with a shrug.

"Great," Steve said, tightlipped.

"Who changed him last time? He must have taken a shit more than once since he got here?" Emma asked.

"Tony knows how to change diapers, he's changed him the other times," Steve admitted, and Thor was struggling with the adhesive straps.

"Where is he now, then?" Bucky asked, not looking like he cared, which, knowing him, he probably didn't right now.

"Sir does not wish to be disturbed when he's this close to a breakthrough," Jarvis supplied. Steve ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"Yeah. He's in his workshop," he said.

"So let me get this straight. You guys can save the world, turn into green rage monsters on or not on demand, flee the Russian mob, survive in ice for seventy years, but you can't change a diaper?" Emma grinned. Steve sighed loudly, and Natasha growled, Bruce just looked a little amused at Thor's careful hands and Clint's frown. Emma rolled her eyes. "That's-you're doing that so wrong, here, let me." She batted Thor's hands away. "Hi Peter, hi! These guys don't know what they're doing, do they?" she cooed.

Peter giggled as she effortlessly changed his diaper, wrapping the adhesive straps snugly and securely around his baby waist.

"There you are, you little cutie!" she grinned, and buttoned up his body again, hoisting him up in her arms and handing him to Steve.

"How did you do that?" Steve asked, kissing Peters tiny head.

"The catholic family I lived with didn't believe in contraceptives, they had children raging from age one through thirteen, I had to help babysit a lot," she shrugged. "Turns out babies shit a lot."

Steve laughed and bounced Peter a little as the boy looked around the room. When he saw Bucky, he flopped an arm out like he was trying to grab Bucky, and made a babbling noise. Bucky looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Crisis averted. Wanna go back and watch that show, Em?" Bucky said without taking his suspicious eyes off Peter, and Steve repositioned himself and Peter so that Peter could stare at Bucky better with his baby brown eyes.

"Sure," Emma said, noting the tension in her friends shoulders. "Hey Clint, guess what, Bucky made his first joke!"

"Really?" Clint asked, shot a smug grin at Bucky before looking back at her. "What was it?"

"I said 'we don't like Paul the Wine guy' and he asked why, and I said because he's a dick, and Bucky said 'but you still like Barton?'" Natasha snorted loudly, and Clint looked mock offended.

"How you _wound_ me, Em, giving him the opportunities, the means," he said dramatically and slumped on Natasha's shoulder, sobbing dramatically. Natasha just rolled her eyes with a little head shake. Why did she even like this guy? This adorable, loving, sweet guy...

"I find great pleasure in Friend Bucky finding his sense of humor!" Thor boomed, and Bucky managed a small half smirk.

"Thanks Thor," he said, and did something unusual. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, in an almost comfortable gesture. He didn't even seem to notice himself, but he looked a little more relaxed than usual, until Peter made jibberish noise.

"Hey, uh, Steve," Emma said quickly. "Dinner should be soon, right?"

"Yeah, I was just about to get started when this happened," Steve replied. "Why?"

"How about you guys fix dinner and someone grabs Tony and we make it a family dinner plus movie night?" she said. Everyone murmured their agreement.

"A merry suggestion, Maiden Emma!" Thor beamed.

"While you make dinner, me and Bucky can keep track of Peter," she said, and Bucky tried to mask his fear, to no avail. "We'll keep him on the floor, Buck, relax, you won't have to touch him."

Steve looked a little unsure.

"You okay with that, Buck?" he asked. Bucky pulled his hands out of his pockets.

"Sure. I've handled worse. Hitmen, mercenaries. I can deal with a kid for an hour."

Bucky would come to regret those words.

\---

Peter was sitting on the floor, and banging two Avenger action figures together. Emma was sitting in front of him, and making little cooing noises as he did baby things. Bucky didn't see why she felt the need to make those noises, but what she did wasn't really his business.

Suddenly a song he wasn't familiar with started blasting out of Emma's pocket.

" _My anaconda don't_  
_My anaconda don't_  
_My anaconda don't want none unless you've-_ "

Emma picked her phone up with a burst of giggles before the song could go any further.

"Hi Darcy!" she said happily.

"Hi Emma! How's it hanging at the tower?" Darcy Lewis asked on the other side. Emma's love for Darcy had not faltered over distance, or time, and they texted all the time, usually when Darcy was bored or when Emma wasn't paying attention to anything.

"Me and Bucky are watching Peter, and Steve and literally everyone else is making dinner," Emma replied as she bopped Peter on the head, made him look confused.

"Oh, send me a picture!"

"Of Bucky or Peter?"

"Ha. Ha. Peter," Darcy said, and Emma could hear the eyeroll in her voice. She grinned. She'd teased Darcy about Bucky all the time since their hug last time they were over.

"Alright, hang on." She snapped a picture of Peter with his doe eyed look, and sent it, put the phone to her ear.

"Is that Bucky's foot behind him?" Darcy asked.

"Yes, you got both what you asked for and what you really wanted."

"I'm going to ignore that, is that the tv in the background?"

"Indeed it is, I'm making Bucky watch Friends with me, because that show has turned out to be golden."

"Second that. Wait, hold on." The line crackled for a second. "Jane, put that down, right now. Go take a shower. Ian, get Jane some coffee, please?" More crackling. "Hi, I'm back."

"How do you keep Jane alive? I mean, Bruce at least knows his limit, but Tony doesn't, and the only thing that stops him is Steve either flashing his abs or his ass. Now, I don't think that's very practical, but in case Steve's butt is not available some time and he needs to snap out of it, we might need some other option." Bucky snorted, and she flashed him a grin.

"Damn. I've always wanted to see Captain America's abs," Darcy said thoughtfully. Peter had started crawling in a pretty wobbly manner towards Bucky's legs.

"Hang on to that thought, I have to rescue Bucky," Emma said and put Darcy on speaker, dropping the phone and grabbing Peter just before he reached Bucky's leg.

"From what?" Darcy laughed.

"From Peter," Emma decided as she pulled the baby into her lap. He made a noise of protest, and began struggling to get to Bucky.

"What could Peter do to him?" Darcy asked, very amused. Bucky pulled his legs up into the sofa, staring hard at Peter.

"Touch him," Emma grunted as Peter struggled in her light grip. "Honey, please stay still, Bucky is very scared of you."

"Not scared," Bucky huffed. "I just don't like 'm."

"Babies in general or Peter?" Darcy asked from the floor.

"Babies in general," Bucky replied.

"Babies can be very cute."

"They drool."

"So do old people."

"Like me?" Darcy snorted.

"Guys, I love the whole bonding thing," Emma said quickly as she laid down on the floor with Peter crawling all over her. "But seriously Buck, can he touch you just once? He won't settle."

"Alright kiddo, you better shut up now," Bucky grumbled and grabbed Peter off of Emma, and put him in his lap, fighting every single twitch of discomfort in his muscles. 

Peter stilled and stared up at him with big brown eyes, watching him curiously. Now that he had reached his goal, he didn't really know what to do with it.

"Holy shit, I need to see this," Darcy said, and Emma switched to video call, pointed her cam at Bucky and Peter. "Oh my god..."

"So cute, right?"

"So goddamn cute. Show the press that and no one will have anything bad to say about him for a month." Emma grinned.

"They're speculating about me," she pointed out.

"And how on point are they?" Darcy asked, and Emma saw her lean back in a chair, her hair swept to one side and light blue pyjama pants.

"Well, they think I'm blonde and three inches taller," she smiled. Darcy whistled.

"Yikes. Totally off."

"Yup. That's actually pretty great. They think I'm the two agents' secret love child, but that I took after Clint more than Natasha."

"Well, you do the bow thing, right?"

"Yeah. I do the bow thing. Not as good as he does, he never misses, but I have a pretty good hand," she chuckled. Peter was now watching the tv, with his hand stuffed in his mouth, making little garbled noises.

"Cool. Hey, Jane heard Thor is in town?"

"Oh, yeah, he is. Think they wanna say hi?"

"Meh, they can do that on their own phones. I don't want my camera to be exposed to any of the shit they do."

"Ew, minor in earshot!"

"You brought it up!"

"Whatever dude. So, since he's here, you gonna come visit?" Emma asked hopefully, and angled her camera at Bucky's metallic arm, now holding onto Peter, who was stuffing this foreign shiny object into his mouth. Bucky was giving him a suspicious look as Peter happily chewed on his thumb, but didn't say anything.

"I don't know," Darcy said, her voice a little softer, and Emma saw a tiny smile on Darcy's lips. She smiled knowingly, even though Darcy couldn't see her.

"I hope you do. Peter is really cute, I bet you would love how soft his cheeks are. Like, very, very soft. Hella soft."

"Like, Thor's face after a good shave kind of soft, or warm blanket kind of soft?" Emma considered her options.

"Baby kind of soft." Darcy was silent for a while.

"I'll talk to Jane, text ya later!"

"Bye Darcy!" Emma grinned as Darcy flashed her a smile and cut the connection.

Bucky watched her with those piercing eyes as Emma slid closer to him on the couch, and retrieved Peter. She could see Bucky visibly relax, and she hugged Peter tight against her chest. His little fingers dug into the fabric of her shirt.

"You and me, baby Peter, we're going to be the bestest of the best siblings. Cousins. Whatever," she mumbled and nuzzled his soft baby hair.

Peter squealed, and Emma took that as confirmation.

\---

After a nice, actually undisturbed, family dinner, they settled into the couches.

"Alright, I vote for Indiana Jones," Emma said as she plopped onto the floor, wiggling around under a blanket.

"I second that motion," Tony said and settled a sleepy Peter on his chest. Peter pressed his cheek to Tony's arc reactor, a thumb in his mouth, and Steve looked about ready to melt into a mess of patriotic goo when he wrapped an arm around his fiancé's shoulders, and kissed his temple.

"Sure," Steve agreed softly as Tony nuzzled into him, not really paying attention to anything except for his little family.

Everyone else agreed, and Clint spread out on the loveseat, expecting Nat to sit with him like usual, but she surprised everyone and sat down on the floor next to Emma's head.

"Can I sit here?" she asked calmly, and Emma shrugged, throwing her blanket over Natasha's legs too.

"Sure," she grinned. "Anybody is welcome to join us on the floor."

A few seconds of shuffling, and then Bruce joined them, sitting behind Natasha whilst leaning on the cheap coffee table. They'd stopped buying expensive furniture after the fifth time aliens and evil robots wrecked their home, and now if something broke, someone just popped by Ikea.

Thirty minutes into the movie, almost everyone was on the floor, save Tony, Peter, and Steve. Emma had moved her head into Natasha's lap, sharing it with Clint's blonde spikes, and had her feet in Bucky's lap. Thor was resting his majestic hair on her stomach as she braided it, and Bruce was on the floor next to Clint, who was throwing pieces of popcorn at his face, trying to hit his open mouth. He never missed, unless Bruce moved. He got pissed when he did that.

Soon enough, Peter and Tony were asleep next to him, so Steve did what any super solider would do. He excused them all for the night, and carried his unconscious fiancé and son upstairs.

As soon as he had tucked Peter in, he returned to the master bedroom, where Tony was wiggling out of his pants, halfway down his thighs.

"Let me help you with that," Steve said softly, and gently tugged down Tony's pants, only to be wrestled onto the bed and kissed ferociously. So that was how this night was going to end, he thought and chuckled as Tony left sloppy kisses along his neck. Oh, he could work with that.

 

Downstairs, it took another hour until the next person dropped dead. Well, two of them, really.

Emma was sleeping in Natasha's lap, and Bucky's eyes were closed, but when Thor moved to leave, Bucky's eyes immediately snapped open.

"I bid you all a good night," Thor said quietly, and Bruce gave a little wave of acknowledgement at the same time as Clint hummed, and sat up.

He glanced down at Emma's sleeping face, and noticed that Natasha was looking at her too. She took the hand that had buried itself in Clint's dark blonde hair, and gently stroked Emma's instead. The girl turned her head to get more, and Natasha's whole demeanor seemed to change from comfortable to mushy soft.

"She's a beauty, huh?" Clint said softly, and Natasha just nodded. Bruce smiled knowingly from the floor, but neither of the agents were paying attention to him, for once they were in their own bubble. Bruce was content to leave them in it, so he silently stood up, mumbled a good night, and asked Jarvis to turn the lights off when they left.

Bucky squeezed Emma's ankle gently before he was sneaking out too, leaving the mini family to their own devices.

"We should probably get her to bed," Clint said, and Natasha nodded again, but neither of them moved an inch. Natasha just kept stroking Emma's hair, as she breathed deeply. Slowly, as if waking up from a trance, Natasha helped get Emma into Clint's arms, and then they were off.

As soon as Emma was tucked safely into her bed, they both lingered at her doorstep. Clint draped a loose arm around Natasha's shoulders. She dared herself to lean into him without inhaling the faint smell of his aftershave and natural smell of gunpowder, bow oil, and that soap he used. 

"We're gonna do fine, right?" he asked her, with some uncertainty in his voice. Natasha nodded slowly.

"Yeah. We'll do fine. So will she."

"You sure?"

"No," she said and shook her head, and Clint gave her a look of pure panic. She frowned at him. "I can't assure you that we'll all be fine. Not with complete certainty."

"Then be nice and try to convince me of it anyways."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"Because sometimes that's the nice thing to do."

"Like when you lie about how hurt you are on a mission?" Clint sighed.

"Yeah, no, not exactly."

"Guys," Emma suddenly mumbled from her bed, where she shimmied around. "Go to sleep and stop bickering in my room."

"Sorry Em, didn't mean to wake you up," Clint said, and Emma grumbled something, twisted onto her stomach. "Door open or closed?"

"Closed," she murmured, and Natasha and Clint separated from each other.

"Okay. Goodnight sweetie," Clint said, and they closed the door behind them. Clint hugged Natasha, and breathed a whiff of her shampoo. God, she always smelled so good. "Night Tash."

"Goodnight Clint," she murmured before they parted ways, and he watched her for a second as she walked over to her own room, closing the door quietly.

Clint ran a hand through his hair. Yeah, okay, he was totally not going to dream about her. Nope. Not at all.

\---


	28. Memories And Two Hawkeyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess what I got?  
> Hawkeye comics! And yeah, I fell in love with Kate, so here's some Kate for ya. I'm apparently intent on getting every single superhero I know of into this thing, so hold on tight my mates, because this fic is going to become an absolute shitshow.  
> Enjoy this chap!

 

When Emma woke up and had to choke a scream before it filled her room, she realized that she really wasn't feeling very okay. Like, totally not at all, should-probably-tell-Clint-or-Natasha kind of not feeling okay.

But old instincts are hard to kill, and so Emma did the one thing she knew that she could always do instead of talk.

She could punch, and kick, and bite, and tear down, and so that was what she was going to do.

Emma was soaked with sweat, even though the room was cool, and her blankets were bunched up at the end of the bed. Just the warmth, she lied to herself through her teeth, and got the fuck up, and out of the bed.

\---

Bruce had been distracted by one of his monitors as soon as he got down to his lab, so he hadn't gone to sleep yet.

"It seems that your attention is needed in the training room, Dr. Banner," Jarvis suddenly said. Bruce blinked, rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Oh? What for?"

"Miss Emma seems to be up awfully early, and she won't listen to me. She has even gone as far as telling me to 'hump a dryer'." Bruce chuckled.

"Yeah, thank you Jarvis. I'll make sure she gets back to bed," he said, and stood up.

Bruce took the elevator to the training rooms, and opened the door to the only one that was lit.

Loud music was blaring out the speakers, loud guitars and a guy sing- no, not even singing, screaming, and Emma was punching the absolute crap out of one of the sparring dummies, kicking and punching with that strength that didn't match her measurements.

With a second look, Bruce noticed her puffy red cheeks, and how she kept swiping at her eyes furiously and with shaking hands inbetween punches. 

He took a second to actually pay attention to the song.

" _Were you told as a child how cruel the whole world can be?_

_Did anybody ever tell you that?_

_Tell me what your purpose is? Who it was that put you here and why?_

_Did anybody really put you here at all?_

_And what of those necessities? Like how to cope with tragedy and pain?_

_Did anybody ever show you how?_ "

Of course, Bruce thought, that explains the crying.

"Jarvis please, lower the volume," he said out loud, and Jarvis lowered the volume to a distant buzz, made Emma freeze her motions and whip around.

"O-oh, hi Bruce," she said, and wiped her tears again, sniffling. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same," he said softly, and gave her a tender smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied quietly, and looked down at her feet.

"Really? Fighting like your life depended on it with a dummy at two AM with loud music blaring? Doesn't sound fine to me." Emma didn't answer, and Bruce nodded. "What band was that?" Emma looked up at him with a confused expression, that quickly switched into a thankful one. He wasn't going to make her talk about it.

"La Dispute," she replied, and sniffled again, clearing her throat.

"Ah! I've never heard of them."

"Neither had I, until Jarvis found them for me. Called them 'the perfect teenage melancholy band'. I've grown to love them."

Bruce stretched his arms out, and Emma gratefully buried her face in his chest. Bruce was great at hugging. Not entirely as good as Natasha, or Clint, or Charlie, but he was in the top five. Definitely.

"When did you get up?" he asked, and stroked her back.

"I don't know," she whispered. Emma sniffled again.

"Okay. How about we grab some tea, or maybe some hot chocolate?" he suggested. Emma nodded into his chest. "Okay, good. Come on." He wrapped an arm around her lithe shoulders and led her into the elevator.

As soon as Emma had a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, she curled up into a ball. Her knees were tucked protectively into her chest and she was cradling the warm cup in her hands, trying to make herself as small as possible. Bruce found that very unnerving, as Emma was always standing on her tippy toes, taking up lots of space and talking a lot.

This Emma wasn't loud and big. This Emma was the smallest, most terrified little girl he had seen.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asked quietly as he sat down by the kitchen island next to her. Emma looked up, her eyes distant. Then she gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Do you know what it's like to be dragged by your hair across asphalt?" Bruce didn't know how to respond to that. "How about gravel? No? I do. It turns out it hurts like fuck, and getting your head slammed into a circus wagon hurts too. Like hell."

Bruce was silent, waited for the dam holding back all of her words in her mind to burst.

"I had a nightmare, whatever, I'm used to that, and then I remembered all this shit from the circus, Charlie, Irma, Jack-O-Slice. I had it pretty good back then. I miss Charlie a lot, he knew what to do with my nightmares. He'd always do something dumb to get shit off my mind. Especially stupid if it was something from the bad foster homes, or when he rescued me from being raped."

Bruce was shocked at how easily the words slipped from Emma's tongue, as if it didn't impact her at all, talking about rape.

"How old were you?"

"I don't remember. Nine and a half? Ten? My mental timeline is blurred for the most part since, ya know. The i-institute." Bruce nodded carefully, noted where she stuttered.

"How did you know that you could trust us? I mean, your... Experience with grown men don't seem to add up to the kindness you show us," Bruce said slowly, trying to change the subject. Emma shrugged.

"Tony likes it up the ass, Clint has such an obvious thing for Natasha it's nearly painful, Thor doesn't know what rape is, plus he has a girlfriend, Steve is a forties golden boy with a boyfriend, and you? Come on," Emma scoffed. Bruce blushed.

"But did you know that when you first met us?" he asked. She sipped her chocolate.

"Wow. You're right. I guess I'm still in that _whimsical_ state of childhood where I believe and _trust_ people. Awful, isn't it?" Bruce tilted his head with a sad face, and Emma groaned. "Don't give me that shrinky look."

"Shrinky?"

"Shrinky." Bruce bit his lip.

"Clint has such a thing for Natasha," he admitted. Emma gave him a tired smile, and Bruce really hated that her smile was so dimmed.

"Yeah. They need to get together."

"I bet they'll be together in a month."

"I give them two and a half weeks," Emma declared and put down her empty cup.

"Wanna bet?" Bruce asked with a small smirk, and Emma nodded.

"I've already bet with Tony, I think he even has a pool with Agent Hill. Whoever that is."

"She's nice. Well, in her own sense. I think you two would get along fine. We should introduce you," Bruce said.

"Cool. Talk to Tony about that pool. I think I'm going back to bed," Emma said and got off the chair, her shoulders still protectively hunched.

"You sure?" Bruce asked with a concerned tone, and Emma frowned.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Goodnight Bruce."

"Goodnight," he said carefully as she stepped into the elevator, and leaned her head against the wall.

"Beam me up, Jay."

"Of course, miss."

\---

Tony woke up when a warm, very naked, strong body pulled itself on top of his. He felt soft lips ghost over his cheek, and his neck.

"Good morning Tony," Steve rumbled in his morning voice, all sleepy and husky. Tony groaned.

"Not if that's the light of the sunrise molesting me," he muttered, and Steve began to kiss along his neck, down to his throat, kissing hickeys that had begun to blossom on Tony's skin. Even though Tony hadn't even opened his eyes yet, he tilted his head back to grant his lover access to more of his neck. "Because we have had talks about this, Steve. Serious talks." 

To silence him, Steve tilted Tony's head back down, and their lips met in a warm tangle of tongues, hazy and sleepy. Tony's hands wandered over Steve's back, the strong muscles there, before coming to rest on his gorgeous butt.

"Sorry. Do you want to get a little more sleep?" Steve smirked, going back to peppering light kisses on Tony's jaw and grinding his hips against Tony, who moaned quietly.

"This is an abuse of power. You are abusing your power. Right now." Steve only laughed, his laugh husky, and that made Tony's dick twitch.

Suddenly they heard a muffled cry from outside.

"Master Peter has awoken," Jarvis alerted them, and Tony sighed. Steve smiled lovingly at his fiancé, and gave him another soft kiss.

"I got him. Thank you, Jarvis." Steve slid out from the covers, and Tony didn't even try to hide his stare at Steve's ass when the naked super solider put on a pair of sweats and walked out, starting a, from now on, normal morning routine.

\---

Emma, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, and Clint were in the kitchen when Tony entered the scene with another one of Steve's hoodies, Peter on his hip, and Hulk underwear today. Bruce blushed at the mere sight of them, and Emma snorted. Why did Steve even have hoodies? He was all super solider warm 24/7 anyways. It was probably just for Tony, and that made her smile a little.  

"Morning," he muttered as he kissed Peter's head, and walked straight to his coffee machine, grabbing the steaming mug already waiting for him.

Emma and Thor were munching on their poptarts, and Clint was just about to dig in on his toast, when his phone started ringing.

"Y'eallow, Hawkeye here," Clint replied, taking a huge bite of his toast.

"What the fuck, Clint?!"

"Oh, hi Katie-kate!" Clint said, grinning. Kate Bishop, aka Hawkeye, aka Clint's best friend that wasn't Natasha, aka the woman who stole his dog to go to LA, was on the phone, and boy, was he happy to hear her voice again.

"You have a kid?" Kate exclaimed on the other side.

"Oh. Shit, yeah. I do. Well, me and Nat, really."

"HOLY SHIT, did you tell her about your feelings? Did you hook up?! Did you _elope_?!"

"What? No! Kate-"

"Then why the fuck do you have a kid together?!"

"...Uh... Long story?" He heard Kate sigh. "Hey, you wanna meet her? You're both just as manipulative and sneaky, and she'll probably steal Lucky too."

"Lucky?" Emma said and leaned forward, biting happily into a poptart. "Who's that?"

"Clint's dog," Natasha remarked as she read a headline in the newspaper over Bruce's shoulder.

"Clint has a dog?!" Emma exclaimed.

"He's a golden retriever with one eye," Natasha said with the same nonchalant tone, but Emma's eyes just lit up with excitement.

"Puppy?" she asked and stared at Clint with her huge eyes.

"God, no, we're not getting a puppy!" Tony said, inhaling his second cup of coffee, which was probably around the time when his brain went back online. "Then you'll have to walk it and feed it and I'm not doing that shit when you're on missions and whatever it is you do when Jarvis can't track you. Steve's gonna complain about the pet thing sooner or later enough, and I'd rather it be later."

"Clint," Kate said, as if she had been repeating herself

"Yes, Darth Kater?" he replied, and Emma snickered.

"I'm coming back to New York. Remind me to remind you to tell Nat you're crushing so hard on her."

"Got it. Bring Lucky!"

"Duh?" And then the line clicked off. Emma looked up at him with big eyes.

"Who's Kate?" she asked, blinking innocently.

"My best friend."

"I thought Natasha was your best friend."

"Kate is also my best friend." Emma hummed.

"Cool. And you have a dog?" He nodded.

"Lucky."

"Awesome," she decided. Clint snorted.

"Thanks kiddo, I think so too." Natasha made a small gesture with her hand that Clint noticed, and she walked out with her cup of tea into the common room. He shortly followed.

Nat was sitting on the couch, and looked up at him with this unguarded look that made him almost trip onto the couch. Instead, he sat down, silently applauding himself. At least he could sit down like a person.

"How are they treating you? Any different?" she asked quietly. He shrugged and slung an arm over the back of the couch.

"Nah. Not much. I think Thor got quieter? Maybe?" he said, almost asking himself.

"Good. You did good, Clint," Natasha said softly, and placed a hand on his knee. He nodded.

"Yeah. Thanks Nat. Wouldn't have done it without ya." She rolled her eyes, but it was a fond one.

"Is Kate coming?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Does she know?"

"About the deaf thing? Oh, yeah, totally. I called her a while back. She may have cried and told me Lucky loves me," he said and saw her lips purse as she blew on the hot liquid in her cup. He watched her rose bud lips take a few sips, and had to stop himself from reaching out and touching her soft lips with his fingertips.

He only noticed that his gaze was firmly locked on Natasha's lips when they quirked up in a dry, small smile that represented so much trust and home and their time before all the Avengers happened that he might have lost his breath for a sec.

"You're staring, Hawkeye."

"I didn't even notice, Miss Widow." Natasha's lips quirked at the old nickname, and shook her head at him, obviously seeing through his bad lie.

"What did Kate want?"

"Uh, she started along the lines of 'what the fuck' and ended along 'you messed up so bad, I'm coming to New York'."

"How did you mess up this time?" Natasha asked with a quiet smile as she sank back into the pillows. Clint took her feet and gently began rubbing them, mostly because if he didn't do something with his hands, he was most likely going to start fiddling, which was a sign of nervousness, and he always got nervous when he had to hide things from Natasha.

"Well, she heard about Emma. She thought we were together now."

"Oh. Ridiculous." Natasha hated the foul taste of the lie rolling off her tongue fluidly.

"Totally." Clint had to swallow down a pained sound at how easily she said it.

They sat silently, their gazes shifting inwards, until Jarvis snapped them out of it.

"Agent Romanoff, you asked me to notify you if miss Emma had any more nightmares," Jarvis said in a hushed tone. Natasha looked up at the ceiling, as did Clint.

"I did. Did it happen last night?" she asked.

"Indeed. Dr. Banner was awake, so I asked him to take care of it. She was back in bed by two-thirty AM." Natasha sighed.

"Thank you, Jarvis," she mumbled. Clint frowned.

"It's that bad?" he asked. She nodded grimly.

"I think we might need to get her to a Shield therapist," she said quietly. Clint sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. She needed to get his hair cut. It was starting to look slightly ridiculous.

"I'm not telling her that. I'm the cool parent." Natasha's eyes narrowed at him.

"You are not the cool parent."

"What? How are you the cool parent?"

"Knife throwing," she said.

"Shooting!" Clint challenged.

"Are you guys serious?" Tony said from the door opening, and they both looked up. "I'm the cool parent. Petey will get whatever he wants. Except for maybe pets."

"I'm still going to say that I'm the cool parent," Clint claimed, and stood up, and Natasha contained her eyeroll.

"Sure Clint," she said.

"I am!"

"Sure."

"Oh my god, Nat, for fucks sake," Clint whined, but Natasha was already getting up and walking into the kitchen, and he let his eyes linger on her hips for a mere second before pulling his eyes up to meet Tony's dark ones.

He still had Peter on his hip, but was now feeding the little baby with a bottle. His neck was littered with bruises and hickeys that made Clint gag a little on the inside, but his look was as sharp as it always was when he got a good nights sleep. That look had become more and more current since Steve and him started hooking up.

"Hey Legolas, we getting a guest?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, the other Hawkeye is coming over."

"Lady Hawkeye is coming, huh? Jarvis, set up a guest room."

"It's not Lady Hawkeye, it's just Hawkeye," Clint grunted. Meh. Katie could wail on Tony about that. That would be fun to see. But with Kate coming to town, he'd have to try really hard not to be a screw up, because Kate would make him slip up. She'd make him tell her.

And he didn't want to lose his best friend.

\---

Kate somehow made it to the tower after lunch.

"Agent Barton, there is a Miss Bishop in the elevator, and she seems to be... Oddly aggravated," Jarvis alerted Clint.

Natasha was sitting next to him, reading, and he and Emma and Bucky were playing Mariokart. Well, it was really just him and Emma, Bucky was just acting as her personal gamer chair. How Emma and Bucky had gotten close enough for Bucky to act as her personal gamer chair, he didn't know. He just knew from what he knew about Emma, that if she wanted to be friends with someone, she would work hard until they were friends. And boy had she worked hard on Bucky.

"For fucks sake!" Clint exclaimed as Emma blue-shelled him and sped past him. He slammed a hand to the couch. "Dammit!" Emma giggled manically, and he just groaned. "Yeah, let her in, she's with me."

"Kate's already here?" Natasha asked with light confusion on her controlled features, and Clint tried to catch up to Emma again.

"Apparently."

"Clint Barton!" a voice exclaimed behind them, and Emma raced over the finish line before looking up to find a striking girl, much younger than Clint, standing with her hands on her hips in the doorway. Her hair was long and black, and her eyes a bright blue. She was wearing a purple hoodie and black skinny jeans, and was looking mighty pissed.

"Katie kate!" Clint exclaimed and stretched his arms out. "Come join us!"

"Hi Kate," Natasha said calmly, and Bucky squinted towards Kate, assessing her.

"Hi Natasha. Clint!" Kate said and motioned for him to come with her.

"Emma, this is Katie, Kate, this is Emma, my... Daughter," Clint said. Emma waved.

"Hi Kate," she said. Kate's jaw dropped.

"She looks just like you and Natasha," she breathed.

"Yeah, I know, we haven't really figured out why yet..." Clint said thoughtfully. "And Emma's best friend, aka the Winter Solider, aka her gaming chair, aka Bucky. This is Kate. She's totally okay." Kate gaped openly at Bucky, who gave her a slow nod.

"I'm more than totally okay, Clint, now get your ass into the kitchen!" Kate said. Clint shrugged at Emma, and put his controller down, jumped over the back of the couch to Kate.

She pulled him into the kitchen.

"Please tell me that you two didn't accidentally have a kid, like, ten years ago?" Kate whispered.

"What? No! And Emma is thirteen, not ten," Clint whispered back. "Also, why are we whispering?"

"Because I need to focus on whispering so that I don't panic because I'm in the actual Avengers Tower," Kate snapped. Clint grinned.

"You're not an Avenger."

"I'm a Young Avenger. Same thing."

"So not the same thing."

"Shut up." Clint smiled.

"How long are you staying?" he asked. Kate shrugged.

"Got some things to do, so at least a while. I need to get you off your ass, and make you tell Natasha." Clint frowned, and opened his mouth to say something but was immediately cut off by Kate. "Now you actually know that she wants to be with you! You have a _kid_ together."

"Yeah, which means that I have to think about what would happen to Emma when she turns me down and our partnership crashes," he snapped.

"Are you blind too? I swear to god-" Kate began, but Clint cut her off.

"No. Just... Not now. Please Kate." She frowned at him.

"You have issues."

"A whole lot of them. Hug it out," Clint said and motioned for her to hug him. She sighed but did, and Clint hummed, happy that Kate wasn't going to call him out on being an ass. At least not right now.

"Clint!" Emma called. "Get back in here so me and Tasha can beat your ass in Mariokart!"

"Can Katie play for me?" Clint called back. Kate raised an eyebrow. "Please get to know her. She's great," he pleaded silently. She shrugged.

"Sure," Kate said just as silent.

"Natasha says she's cool, so sure!"

"See Clint? I'm cool. Not totally okay," Kate said, and slapped his arm, walking into the common room again.

\---


	29. Girly Time And Arrow Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update! I was in France...  
> Also sorry it's so short.  
> Enjoy!

  
Okay, so putting Emma and Kate and Natasha in the same room proved to be the worst idea Clint had ever had. And he'd had lots of bad ideas. But this was, for now, his worst idea in the history of ever.

"What are you doing?"

Clint jerked at the sound of Bucky's voice, and whipped around, only to see him with his eyebrows raised just the tiniest bit.

"I- Why do you need to know?" he asked defensively, and Bucky's eyebrows rose a tiny bit more.

"Because you're spying on Em and Romanoff and that girl," Bucky said and crossed his arms over his chest, the metal glinting dangerously.

"Kate," Clint said, his eyebrows furrowing. "Her name is Kate."

"Oh."

"You already knew that, we've said her name multiple times today," Clint remarked slowly. Bucky blinked several times.

"Yes, I did know that."

"Then why didn't you say her name?" Bucky was silent, and shifted his jaw, letting his gaze drop from Clint's.

"I didn't know if she... If she wanted me to..." Bucky said quietly, cutting himself off and clamping his mouth shut in a way that must be painful. He had forgotten that Bucky wasn't all rainbows and unicorns, because of how he acted with Emma. Clint realized he had overstepped without even meaning to, and held his hands up in mock-surrender.

"Katie is totally fine with you calling her Kate. If it makes you more comfortable, I don't think she'd kill you for calling her Bishop." He saw something resembling relief in Bucky's demeanor, but then he was shut again, and he nodded.

"So why are you watching them?"

"I'm pretty sure they're trashtalking me, and I need to know what they're saying."

\---

Natasha had few female friends. The only ones that she could enjoy being with were Pepper, Maria, Jane, Darcy, and most times, Kate. Not because she was a 'tomboy', but because in the Red Room, girls were competition. You always had to prove you were the best, at seducing, at killing, att maiming, at everything.

After Clint had gotten her to join Shield, she and Maria had started to develop somewhat of a respectful friendship, but then she had met Pepper, and Pepper was so relaxed and kind compared to Natasha, so Natasha learned how to relax a little too.

Women weren't competition. They were allies.

Still, she had trouble with sharing. Sharing was bad, sharing wasn't something that she liked to do, but she was really at a loss here, and Pepper was obviously busy, and here Kate was, sitting right in front of her and talking to Emma about arrows.

"Gosh, I love arrows," Kate sighed, and Emma grinned, twisting her head to look at Natasha.

"Clint says that too, and in the exact same way," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"They both have a deep love for arrows," Natasha murmured and looked up at Kate, meeting her eyes. "I need to tell you something."

"Oh dear god," Kate said, making a horrified noise. "Please don't tell me it's a secret. Hawkeyes aren't very good at keeping secrets, and you know this."

"It's a secret," Natasha murmured. Kate groaned.

"Why me?"

"Because you know how to handle Clint," Natasha said, keeping her voice low as she shuffled closer to Kate and absentmindedly gave Emma's hair a gentle caress.

"It's a secret about Clint? Oh, alright then. Dish dish dish," Kate said, wiggling her eyebrows.  
Natasha opened her mouth to ask for help, for advice, anything, but the only thing that came out was

"He has his clearance back." Kate raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I knew that. Not so much of a secret. You were there when he took it. He said he was totally mindfucked as to how that worked. Said he got good advice."

"Alright, girly time is over!" Clint called quickly as he walked in. "Kate, I have tons of new arrows I could show you, Emma why don't you come along?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, and he pointed a finger at her.

"And you better not be telling things you shouldn't be telling," he squinted teasingly. Natasha's lips quirked up into a small smile.

"Of course not," she deadpanned. "I would never." Clint smiled at her too, and Emma shrugged, flung herself over the couch, followed by Kate. "Clint!"

"Yeah?" he asked as he peeked back into the room.

"Don't let Emma shoot."

"Right. We should put an age-limit on that," Clint replied, his eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"Yeah. And you know I will find out if she shoots," Natasha said, giving him a warning look. He grinned.

"Won't let you down, Tash," he winked, and snuck into the elevator.

\---

After about half an hour of shooting arrows and filling Kate in on the Natasha situation, Kate sighed loudly.

"You're really dumb," she decided.

"I'm sure you're right, but why?" he asked as she drew her bow. "Lower your elbow, what's got you all tense all of a sudden?" She did as he said.

"Because you and her have been doing this stupid dance for years! Someone gets a little close, the other distances him or herself, and then pushes right back, making the other back off! Like two fucked up magnets." She let the three arrows fly, and they hit the target with a thump, the middle one an inch away from hitting bullseye.

"A little more to the right?" Clint suggested, and Kate stuck her tongue out at him. "Very mature, Katie-kate. Let the pros show you how it's done."

"I'm a pro too!" she exclaimed. "I'm an Avenger!"

"Young Avenger," Clint corrected, grabbing his bow and grabbing three arrows out of Kate's quiver. Kate rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as he did that zen thing he always did when he was shooting. He was always really good at calming down like that. Who would have known that Clint Barton had once been violent as fuck in Shield containment?

He let the arrows fly, and the middle one landed bullseye, the other ones a mere inch apart from the middle one.

"Show-off," Kate snorted. Emma tilted her head where she was seated next to Clint's bow.

"What's that?" she asked and pointed to Clint's armguard. He looked down at it, and laughed.

"That... Uh..." Emma grabbed his arm and stared at the armguard.

"Holy shit, that's Nat's mark, isn't it?" she said with a smirk as her eyes followed the red hourglass. "Damn. You're so head over heels you might make me swoon."

" _God_ , yes he is, thank you!" Kate groaned loudly. "It makes me sick sometimes."

"Meh, at least you don't live with them," Emma replied. "It's like all of the tension is constantly in the air."

"You're telling me! When he wasn't living here, she'd come over and they'd be all cozy and I could cut through the tension with a butterknife."

"This is officially your little sister, Katie," Clint said, rolling his eyes. Emma grinned at Kate.

"Right, how did that happen by the way?" Kate asked, giving him a pointed glare.

"Oh. Yeah. We rescued her on a mission. Turns out she's got magical powers."

"I'm not magical," Emma protested. "All of that's from horrid experiments."

"Whoa. That's tough," Kate said with raised eyebrows. Emma shrugged, but Clint could see how she tucked her arms closer to herself, trying to become smaller.

"Whatever."

"Hey," Clint said softly, and Emma looked up. "Not everything magical with you came out of a lab. Most of it's just you. Ask anyone."  Emma's lips twitched into a small smile, and Clint smiled too. Kate's eyes narrowed.

"You guys are really cute... Are you sick, Clint?"

"I can be cute!"

"I remember calling you that and you replied with 'I'm not cute, I'm manly as hell'."

"Dudes can totally be cute," Emma protested.

"Oh yeah, totally, it's just not Clint's style," Kate said and batted her eyelashes at him. Emma laughed.

"I like you," she declared.

"Cool, I like you too," Kate said with a smile.

"Awesome."

"Oh god, you're not going to start talking shit about me when I leave, are you?" Clint asked suspiciously. Kate grinned at Emma, who grinned back. "Oh come on!"

Yup. Worst idea he'd ever had.

\---


	30. Pizza Dog And Webs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter because I need to progress with the story and for that I need people to come and go.  
> Enjoy!

 

Emma's phone chirped. She picked it up, her green-blue eyes scanning the screen.

"Bucky!" she called from where she was sitting, in Clint's lap. When she got no reply, she sighed. "Jarvis, where's Bucky?"

"Sergeant Barnes is in his rooms."

"Doing what?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and Clint looked up from his phone. Kate was asleep next to them on the couch, apparently she'd been driving all night.

"He is currently reading," Jarvis replied.

"Tell him Darcy says hi." Clint's eyebrows raised.

"Oh does she? Really?! Oh my god!" he said in a high pitched voice, and Emma punched his arm, made him chuckle.

"Sergeant Barnes replied with a simple hi back," Jarvis said. Emma squinted at the screen. Then she lit up.

"She talked to Jane! They're coming over!" Emma squealed happily. "Jarvis, tell Bucky."

"I could just arrange for a video call from your phone to Sergeant Barnes tv," Jarvis suggested with an amused tone.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Don't, like, freak him out though," Emma said, raising an eyebrow at the roof. Her screen flickered, and Bucky was sitting on his bed, a knife on his bedside table. He had a book with a red cover in his hands, and over his bed, more books were scattered. Bucky squinted up at her.

"Em? What time is it?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

"It's three p.m., it's all cool," Emma said with a dismissive wave at him. He nodded and tilted his head.

"What's the matter, doll?" he asked, a small smile on his usually ever blank slate.

"Darcy and Jane are coming!" she grinned.

"Great," Bucky replied, looking back down at his book.

"Where's your enthusiasm, Buck? Darcy and Jane!" Emma grinned. He smiled a little wider, sarcastically. "There you go!"

"When are they coming then?" he asked, raising his eyebrow just a smidge.

"In two days!" Emma squealed happily. "Apparently, Jane talked to Thor, and he talked to Tony, and they're coming over!"

"That's great," Bucky repeated.

"Would it be possible for me to convince you to let Darcy watch movies with us?" she asked hopefully, and Bucky must have given her a strange look, because she sighed and crawled underneath Clint's arm with a dramatic groan. Clint let his chin rest upon her red curls, and smiled down on her, a soft smile he rarely let himself use.

He'd never been good with words, but he did know that he had grown to love this little girl. She was really the sweetest, and something he'd never thought he'd ever have in his life: a child. Not even in Clint's wildest dreams did he think that he would actually have a kid, adopted or biological. He was always fucking things up. The only one that had always stuck around in his life and not let him down yet, was Tasha. And possibly Kate. But she'd grown tired of his shit too, and gone off to L.A. He wasn't really all that surprised.

"C'moooon. We'll see if she can handle your awesome," Emma said, and Bucky snorted.

"Wanna head to the roof with me, doll?" he asked, his change of subject far from subtle, but she  just grinned, as if that was a 'yes', and quickly extracted herself from Clint's loose grasp.

"On my way, get your shiny ass in the elevator," she said as she flung herself over the couch to pad down to the elevator.

"Em!" Clint called after her, minding his volume to not wake Kate up. Emma froze in her tracks and turned to him.

"Yeah?" she said, two huge blue green grey eyes blinking innocently at him.

"Don't fall off the ledge."

"I would never," Emma grinned.

"I'm serious. Be careful," he said, and gave her a stern glare. She nodded.

"Promise," she said and proceeded to jump into the elevator. He could her her happy squeal when she found Bucky already in there.

"Jarvis, if she does fall off, could you... I don't know, grab her or something?" Clint asked the ceiling quietly. Even the thought of it made his stomach clench uncomfortably, and he frowned slightly.

"Of course, Agent Barton. I will not let any harm come to Emma, nor Sergeant Barnes."

"Thanks."

\---

They all sat down and had dinner together, it was nice, with soft chatter, and Kate gushed over Peter, which made Steve and Tony beam like the fucking sun with pride about their baby boy. Thor spoke happily about 'Lady Jane and Lady Darcy's impending arrival', and Emma flicked peanuts across the table at Bucky, who ate them or flicked them back. Clint and Natasha had hushed conversations, which had them both either smiling or Natasha smacking Clint's arm and him giggling so much he didn't even have the urge to slap back.

Kate kept giving him pointed looks, that Clint kept ignoring, because he wasn't about to fuck his life up again just because Kate told him to.

"You can take my room, I'll sleep on the couch," Clint mumbled when they all started retreating back to their rooms. Emma was chattering happily at Natasha(yes, at, Natasha wasn't doing much talking) and wasn't paying any attention to them, but Tony was, he looked up from Peter on his hip.

"What? Are you serious, Barton? We live in a tower with over 60 floors, and you're going to sleep on the couch? Jarvis, set up a guest suite for little Kate here," he said, curling into Steve's chest with Peter tucked securely to his chest. Bucky was watching Steve protectively curling around his little family.

"A suite would beat your bed," Kate decided.

"Guest rooms first then," Tony sighed, and closed his eyes. Having Peter waking up at night to be fed was going to kill him, but Steve didn't need to sleep as much as Tony did, because of the serum, and really, Tony could go days without a wink of sleep and tons of coffee, but Peter was somehow making him sleepier.

When Kate was dropped off on her floor, she first hugged Emma, gave Clint a hug, and Natasha a half-hug.

"Talk to her," Kate whispered as she hugged Clint, and he frowned as he watched her go.

"If you want your girlfriend in your room, just say so," Tony said when the doors closed, and Clint gave out a snort as Steve shot Tony a scolding look.

"Katie-kate? My girlfriend? Hah! She could be my kid! Almost."

"I would actually not be too surprised if you tried to convince me to adopt Kate too," Natasha said dryly, and Clint grinned.

"Hey, maybe we could-"

"No. Clint. We're not adopting Kate."

"She's not messy! Well, yeah, she is, but I'm worse! She would totally help me ditch any possible chores, and she can absolutely help with cleaning your knifes, god knows you've got a lot of 'em."

"We're not adopting Kate. She has an actual dad and an actual sister." He pouted at her, and Natasha rolled her eyes at him.

The elevator slowed to a stop on their floor, and they exited, still bickering.

"Night Tony, night Steve!" Emma called as she grabbed Bucky's hand and dragged him out on their floor.

She guided him towards the couch, and seated him there, watching as Natasha walked over to her room.

"Don't stay up too late, I want you in bed by eleven," Clint called, and Emma grinned when she got a stern look from Natasha.

"Yeah, I got it!" she called back.

"Bucky, can you make sure she gets in bed by then?" Natasha asked, giving him a pointed glare. He nodded, and Natasha nodded back before she disappeared into her room.

"Night Nat!"

"Goodnight."

\---

When Darcy and Jane came, Darcy was allowed into the secret Bucky-and-Emma club.

Day two of the epic marathons, Emma was lying on the floor on her back, with her feet in Bucky's lap, who was sitting on the couch. Darcy and Bucky got along very well, Darcy even made him smile. Bucky wasn't even sitting on the other end of the couch, he was relaxing with his flesh arm on the back of the couch, and Darcy was sitting mere inches away. He didn't look bothered.

"We need to watch that, what's it called.... Um... It's a Disney movie," Darcy said, making hand motion. "Help me here!"

"Uhh, we've seen like all of them. Except for... Atlantis?" Emma said thoughtfully from the floor.

"Oh, yeah! That's what it's called," Darcy said. "The one with the secret island thing?"

"There's two movies, but the first one is better animated," Emma said.

"I'm not even gonna pretend I know what that is," Bucky muttered. Darcy grinned at him.

"You'll love it. The princess is like, 8000 years old, and the dude she ends up with is like 20. It's the greatest age gap of all Disney movies," Darcy said.

"That's a huge age gap," Bucky pointed out. He was silent for a few moments, his metal hand cool on Emma's feet. "How many years are there between Stevie and Stark?"

"That's an interesting question, since Steve is like, physically twenty-seven, but like, ninety-seven for real," she mused. 

"Does that make you ninety-seven too?" Darcy asked. Bucky gave her a confused look.

"I... I guess," he said slowly.

"You don't look a day over twenty-seven," Emma quipped, and Bucky gave her a blank glance. "Oh come on, old man, you look great! For being ninety-seven."

"Thanks doll, you're the sweetest," Bucky replied dryly, and Darcy laughed.

"You do look good for your age," she said, with a smile on her lips. Bucky found himself smiling back.

"You look good just in general," he said, and it came out with a relaxed drawl he could connect to pre-Winter Solider Bucky. Steve had said he was a flirt. He just didn't think he would ever become that kind of relaxed again. He seemed to surprise himself a lot today.

Darcy looked taken back, but quickly rebounded with a flirty smile.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asked, and Emma hadn't looked up from the tv, but Bucky knew that she was very much listening.

"Depends," he said, and Darcy grinned wider. "Is it working?" This made her straight out laugh.

"Alright kids, settle down," Emma called jokingly from the floor, and wriggled her feet free from Bucky's metal arm. "I gotta pee, be right back."

She took her time, because she wanted to see how well Bucky would do without her. She was his best friend, yeah, but he needed more friends. He'd just discovered more of himself, and it was a part of him that Emma sure as hell did not want to explore with him. Darcy, however...

When Emma came back out again, there was no room for Jesus between them, and Bucky's real arm was resting as light as a feather on Darcy's shoulder. They both looked like a couple of high schoolers, both nervous and stiff, although Darcy was better at hiding it.

It was absolutely adorable.

Emma knew better than to comment on Bucky's progress, and just sat back down on the floor, only to see the intro to Atlantis rolling.

"Oh, fuck yeah, Kida is my favorite Disney princess! Well, she and Tiana are like tied, because I love them both, but you know, there's two movies with Kida and only one with Tiana, so I'll take what I can get," Emma said thoughtfully.

"Tiana, is that the one with the frog?" Bucky asked, his eyes firmly trained on the tv.

"Yeah. She's the first black Disney princess ever."

"Ever?"

"Yup."

"Only one? I woulda thought Disney would've had more than one. When did it come out?"

"Jarvis?" Emma asked.

"In 2009, miss," Jarvis offered. Emma hummed, and a slight wrinkle formed between Bucky's eyebrows.

"That's awfully late," he muttered, but let it slide and kept watching the movie.

Suddenly the elevator bell dinged.

"Who could that be?" Darcy asked, and looked over the back of the couch and Bucky's arm to the elevator.

"Well, Jane and Thor are, hrm, busy, Kate dragged Clint to a café for some reason, Natasha got stolen by Pepper this morning, Tony hasn't been seen for a solid twenty-three hours and counting, Bruce I'm pretty sure is doing groceries, which leaves..." Emma began, and that's when Steve emerged from the elevator, with Peter in his arms. "Steve! And Peter, of course."

"Hi guys," Steve said kindly, but his smile looked a little exasperated around the edges, and he bounced Peter nervously as the tiny boy clung to a little stuffed bunny. Steve's gaze lingered on Bucky's arm around Darcy's shoulders, and his smile turned smug for a mere second before it was back to its unusual exasperation. "Could you watch Peter for me for a little while? Please?"

"Sure, give him here," Darcy said and made a 'gimme gimme' motion with her hands. Relief flooded Steve as soon as Bucky turned to look back too; not with fear, but determination.

"Oh, thank you so much," Steve said, seating Peter in Darcy's lap. "Okay baby, I'll be right back, just stay with Uncle Buck and Auntie Darcy, okay?" He kissed Peters head, who made a noise of protest, but pretty quickly settled against Darcy's chest.

"May I ask why we need to watch him?" Emma asked as she crawled over to Darcy and Peter.

"Oh, I have to go save Tony, thanks again!" Steve called as he got into the elevator again, gone as fast as he came and leaving only Peter in his wake. 

They sat silently for a few moments, until Emma burst out laughing.

"Perks of living with Stark," she said. "You get to randomly babysit!"

Darcy laughed, shaking her head as Peter squirmed in her lap.

"Wanna come to me Peter? Huh? Do ya?" Emma asked in her baby voice, and Darcy gladly handed Peter over to Emma, who proceeded to place Peter on the floor so that he could crawl around.

Everybody refocused on the movie, and even though Emma had seen this movie before, she still got pissed when people started fucking betraying each other left and right. So pissed she didn't notice when Peter abandoned the stuffed bunny and began crawling out of her reach range.

"Peter!" Bucky suddenly blurted out in alarm, and suddenly all eyes were on the little boy.

Currently clinging to the wall six feet above the ground.

Emma's eyes went wide.

"Peter!" she and Darcy exclaimed at the same time, and now everyone was on their feet.

"Oh my god, James, get him down!" Darcy exclaimed.

"I got him, I got him," Bucky said as he grabbed Peter off the wall, and quickly handed the little crawler over to Darcy, who cradled him to her chest in panic.

"Okay, what the fuck just happened?" Emma asked, and she totally feels like that's a valid question at the moment, because she didn't know a whole lot about babies, but she sure as hell knew they weren't supposed to be crawling walls like those tiny lizards.

"Jarvis, can we have a recap of what just happened?" Darcy said.

"I believed young Peter just climbed up a wall, miss Lewis," Jarvis said, sounding as puzzled as they all were.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Emma asked, her eyes huge as tennisballs. "Give us a video recap of that!"

A holographic screen appeared on the wall in front of them, a video feed of them all watching the tv. Peter's tiny figure started crawling towards the wall and then he just went straight up it until Bucky startled and they all moved over to where they were now.

"Please tell me you've already called Steve and Tony," Darcy said as she closed her eyes, pressing a squirming Peter closer to her chest.

"Sir and Captain Rogers are in the elevator on the way up," Jarvis replied.

\---

"Pizza dog!" Clint exclaimed happily as Lucky tackled him to the ground like he wasn't actually a pretty big dog, and instead a puppy. Lucky slobbered over him, and Clint laughed as he petted the golden retriever.

"Thanks for keeping him safe for me," Kate smiled at the guy behind the counter, who smiled right back.

"Anything for you, Kate," the guy said, and she gave him a flirty smile. Clint rolled his eyes as he proceeded to scratch behind Lucky's ear.

"Let's go get pizza!" Clint said, and Kate sighed.

"Fine. Bye Aaron!" she called as she, Clint, and Lucky made their way out of the small café.

"Why'd you leave Lucky here?" Clint asked as they made their way over to a pizza place across the street.

"Aaron owes me a favor, and I didn't know how the tower security would like Lucky."

"Good call, Tony doesn't like pets," he said as Kate ordered two large pizzas.

"Hey you can't bring that dog in here!"

"It's his seeing eyedog," Kate said, giving the man a look of faked horror. She should really be an actress. "He can't see!"

Clint made a point of touching Lucky with an aghast look, and the dude turned pale.

"Oh. Sorry man, didn't mean to-"

"S'all good," Clint said, waving dismissively at a wall. Kate turned him lightly, and he mumbled an 'oh', and did it again. The dude looked so uncomfortable, and mumbled another apology before scurrying off with their order. Kate high fived him behind his back, and he petted Lucky's head again. "Good pizza dog."

They'd made it to a park nearby and eaten all the pizza, plus some ice cream, when Clint's phone started ringing.

Kate grabbed it off the ground and answered quicker than Clint could even register. Lucky had his head in Clint's lap, and Clint hadn't reached for it fast enough.

"Hi Natasha!" Kate said with a smile Clint's way. He reached for the phone, but she leaned away. "Oh, nothing, we're at the park, we just picked Lucky up from my friend Aaron."

"Give it," Clint said, and snapped his fingers. Kate crawled further away. He didn't want to disturb Lucky, and grabbed her ankle. "Katie!"

"Hang on a second Natasha, I have to kick Clint," Kate said with a sweet smile, and then she kicked violently backwards, making Clint lose his grip on her as she crawled away. "I'm back!"

Clint could tell Natasha was chuckling on the other end of the phone, as he carefully extracted himself from Lucky by grabbing a stick.

"Go get it boy!" he said and launched it further into the park. Lucky shot off after it, and he grabbed a hold of Kate's ankle again, grabbing it and yanking her back, only to grab the phone victoriously. "Tash?" he said into the phone.

"I thought I was talking to Kate?" Natasha's amused voice said as Kate pushed him off of her, and Lucky came running back with the stick. Kate took it and got a kiss from him.

"You were, but not anymore, what's up?" he asked as he fell back down on the grass, looking up at the clouds.

"Tony called me and told me to come in. It's an emergency," she said, serious again.

"Oh? That doesn't sound good?" Clint said as he motioned for Kate to help him up. She did with a grunt.

"He sounded stricken, but not in agony or pain. I think it's just a team kind of matter," Natasha said.

"You get pulled out of the spa for this?" he grinned as Kate got Lucky. He grabbed the car keys from the ground and motioned for Kate to follow him.

"Yeah, total bullshit," she said under her breath. "I'll be there in ten, where are you and Kate?"

"And Lucky," he added. "We're fifteen minutes away."

"Okay, meet you at the tower."

"Roger that. Bye Tash."

"Bye Clint."

He hung up and opened the back door for Lucky, who readily hopped in. Kate followed suit on the passenger side, and Clint slid over the hood to the other side.

"Really Clint?!"

"What? It's an emergency and I looked really cool!"

Kate just groaned.

\---

"Alright, we're here, what's happening?" Clint asked as they entered the common floor with Lucky trailing behind. Everyone was sitting in the couches, Natasha absentmindedly playing with Emma's hair.

"Puppy!" Emma called out, and quickly crawled over the back of the couch, approaching Clint and Kate and Lucky.

"This is Lucky," Clint said, as he noticed Banner holding Peter when he had his feet and hands on the wall, laughing giddily. "What's the emergency?"

"Peter can walk on walls," Emma said as she approached Lucky with her hand stretched out carefully. Lucky let her pet him, and she squealed in delight when she began to scratch him behind his ears and petting his soft fur.

"He can what now?" Clint said, looking at Bruce, who looked absolutely baffled.

"It is not asgardian magic," Thor announced. "The Man of Iron and Warrior Steven's heir has not had a spell put on him."

"No, this is biology," Bruce marveled.

"So what, is he sick? Can we get rid of it?" Tony asked, a tired and worried crease inbetween his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure," Bruce said thoughtfully.

"Wasn't he rescued from someplace?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah," Steve said, watching as Peter crawled up the wall with Bruce hands carefully underneath him if he fell. "He was rescued from a science facility. His parents worked there, and his aunt and uncle went there with him for the day and that's the day when-"

"The spiderbites!" Tony suddenly exclaimed. Steve looked startled, but blinked, and sudden realization hit him.

"The spiderbites," he groaned.

"That's why he can climb walls!" Tony exclaimed. He took Peter off the wall, only to find Peters hands sticking to the wall with... Webs?

"Whoa!" Emma called from the floor, where Lucky was currently laying on his back, getting a belly rub. "Did Peter just shoot webs?!"

Tony took a steadying breath.

"Your lab or mine, Brucie-bear?"

"Mine."

"Tony!" Steve called as Bruce and Tony made their way out of the common room. He grumbled something not so innocent, and hurried after them.

"So... Peter's magical too? Like Emma?" Clint asked.

"She's not magical, Clint," Natasha said. "She has some sort of telekinesis powers."

"So magic."

"Not magic, telekenesis."

"I blow shit up, how is that telekinesis?" Emma asked from the floor, where she was now cuddling Lucky as she scratched his belly absently. Lucky looked like he was having the time of his life.

"You make them expand and contract, I would say, really," Natasha said. "With your mind. I think that counts as telekinesis."

Emma considered that for a little while.

"I'll take it," she decided, and Natasha smiled quietly.

"Where is Lady Pepper?" Thor asked.

"I left her at the spa. She needs the 'me time' more than I do," she said. _And she'd make me talk about me_.

"Hey Em, where's Bucky?" Clint asked. Emma looked up from Lucky's golden fur, blinking in confusion.

"Oh. Right. I left him and Darcy on our couch. They're getting along _well_ ," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. Clint wolf whistled.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. Lewis is quite the charmer," he said. "Nearly charmed the pants off of me once."

"It's pretty easy to do that, to be fair," Kate said and patted Clint's shoulder with a smile.

"Ha. _Hah_. You're fucking hilarious."

"I know."

"Can we keep him?" Emma asked from the floor as Lucky licked her hand, giving Clint her puppy eyed look. _Shit._

"Well, he's mine, so I mean, I'm up for it. Don't turn those cute eyes at me, bat your eyelashes at Tony instead, he's the one who's gonna be pissed," Clint said with his hands in the air. Emma grinned.

"Alright. I can totally do that."

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M TRASH FOR BUCKY/DARCY, SO WHAT, SUE ME


	31. Green Paint And Relapses

 

"Let me get this straight," Tony said, running his hands through his hair for what felt like the thousandth time. "Peter was bitten by radioactive spiders, and he can now crawl up walls and... Shoot webs? Like an actual spider?"

"Yes," Bruce said, for the fifth time.

"So you're telling me-"

"Let's speed up the denial, please, Tony?" Bruce interrupted.

"But... He's healthy?" Steve said quietly, gazing down at Peter in his arms. The little boy had fallen asleep to the safe sounds of his dads' voices, and was sleeping soundly at the moment.

"He's more than healthy. He even has a healing factor; nowhere as impressive as Emma's, or... Wolverine's, or Deadpool's, but it's there. I can't see it eating away at his system either, he's just... Part spider."

"And how is that not bad?!" Tony exclaimed. Peter made a noise of protest and wiggled around in Steve's arms at the sudden noise, but quickly settled back down. Steve gave Tony a tired look.

"He's healthy. He's... Mostly fine. He just thinks climbing walls is fun." Steve was smiling as he finished that sentence, chuckling. "We won't love him less for this. Will we?"

"...Well, no," Tony said, laying his hand softly on Peter's stomach. "The kid is cute, he can pull off anything, including spider-powers."

Steve laughed softly, and Tony grabbed the back of Steve's neck with his free hand, pulling his fiancé into a kiss. Bruce smiled, feeling happy for his friends. He remembered how they'd been on the day of their first date, and was reminded of how different they were now.

They'd both been nervous back then, really nervous. Tony had been all 'oh fuck what if I fuck up Captain America?! And not in the good way! Bruce, stop grinning!', and Steve had been all 'oh gosh, what if he doesn't like me? Should I just cancel? Why are you smiling like that, Bruce?'. He had been the most helpful he could, by telling them both it would be fine, before sending them off on their date.

"But he's not gonna start eating flies and shit, right?" Tony asked suddenly. Bruce looked a little helpless.

"I'm not sure."

"If he starts eating flies, _you_ 're doing the feeding," Tony said and pressed a hand to Steve's broad chest. Steve grinned and pulled him in for another kiss.

Oh well. Bruce would have to take care of Peter's eating habits and Tony's and Steve's mental health when they had to start feeding their baby flies.

He was, after all, all kinds of doctors for the Avengers.

\---

"No."

" _Please_."

"No."

"Tony!" Emma whined. "Look at his fluffy little face!"

"No."

"C'mon! Why can't we keep him?"

"Because we don't keep pets in my tower."

"Our Tower! It's called Avengers Tower, isn't it?" Emma pointed out.

"Are you an Avenger?" he asked, looking down at the little girl on the floor, giving a happy Lucky a belly rub.

"Well... No, but both my parents are! Doesn't that make me one by association?"

"Does that mean Peter is an Avenger?" Bruce asked in an amused tone as Tony fed the little kid some peaches.

"With Emma's reasoning, yes," Tony replied.

"C'mon Tony! He's the sweetest! I'll walk him every day!"

"No, you won't." Internally, Emma shrugged. He was right about that.

"Steve can go running with him! I bet Lucky would get really tired really quick, but it would be really fun to see Steve outrun a dog."

"I said no! He'll leave as soon as Kate does." Emma lit up. "That doesn't mean she can stay forever either!"

The elevator doors opened, and Natasha came walking in, with a sweaty Kate in a purple suit in tow.

"So what, I'm not _exactly_ as good as Clint is, he's had like tons of years training more than I have!"

"Did I ever say he didn't?" Natasha asked as she grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, handing it to Kate who nearly inhaled the bottle.

"Kate, do you know how long you'll hang around?" Tony asked. Kate shrugged.

"A few days, probably. Why?"

"Tell Emma that the dog is coming with you."

"Well..."

"Tony," Natasha said, with her calmest voice. Tony slowly turned around to look at her, eyes slightly wide, because that tone implied that Natasha was about to verbally kick his ass.

"Yeah?" he said slowly. Natasha gave him a sweet smile.

"Lucky's staying right here."

"What? No, he's not."

"Yes, he is."

"It's my tower!"

"And I live here. I don't see what your point is."

"That dog isn't staying!"

"If I say Lucky's staying, he's staying," she said, and gave him a glare in which he crumpled.

"I... I'm not saying this because I'm scared of you or anything, but... Fine. Keep the damn dog," Tony said, and scooted backwards a little when Natasha moved closer.

"I'm glad we could reach an agreement," she smirked. Tony gritted his teeth.

" _Pleasure_."

It was rare for Tony Stark to back down, but Natasha didn't let herself bask in it. Instead she looked over at Emma with a smile, who was grinning as big as she could right back.

"Hear that, Lucky? You get to stay!" she said happily, and got a kiss from Lucky. Clint would be happy too, Natasha thought. She knew the story of how Clint got Lucky, and if he had to let him go again, well, he might not do so well. She was caring for Emma, and she was caring for Clint.

The fact that Lucky seemed to love her too was something she'd never take pride in out loud. Clint knew though. He knew her so well.

She felt someone watching her, and she turned her head, to meet eyes with Bruce. He gave her a knowing smile, but remained silent.

Natasha knew what the stare was about though. She was getting attached to her daughter. Her daughter. She had to take a deep breath not to panic at the thought.

Well, rather Emma that could defend herself than some small infant such as Peter. She'd feel bad for Stark and Steve if anything ever happened to the little spider boy.

Natasha would fight the world singel handedly for these people, she realized. Her look fluttered to the ceiling, searching for a God she didn't believe in.

 _Always keep them safe,_ she prayed silently, even though no one was there to hear her prayer.

\---

When Kate left, it wasn't a big thing. She just left a note on Clint's door that said that she had shit to do, and that she was going to be gone for a while. She had put post-it notes all over their floor that said 'feed the goddamned dog, Barton'. Clint was bummed, but he got over it as soon as he saw all the post-it's. He had a good laugh to start the day.

When Jane and Darcy left, however, there was bravado, and Tony even wanted to throw a party, but Steve stopped him, thank the gods. Tony also offered them to stay as long as they wanted, but they both denied the invite.

This time when Darcy hugged Bucky before she left, he hugged back.

Because of that, Tony kept humming love songs around Bucky, until Emma painted Dummy green with Peter's washable paints, much to the younger Stark's enjoyment, and Steve's amusement, and Tony's dismay. Bucky silently thanked her by going to the park with her the next day. Clint high fived her when she'd washed the paint off of her hands

Emma was also locked out of Tony's lab a few days because of the disobedience, until Bruce and he were at a stalemate in a project. Then she was allowed down there again.

August came to an end, and soon, Emma had been at the Avengers tower for four months.

That's when shit started hitting the fan. It started on, what seemed to be, a regular, quiet, morning. Emma and Clint were in the kitchen, eating breakfast, and talking about a touchy subject.

"Why do you wanna go to school anyways?" Clint asked, frowning.

"To learn?" Emma said with a frown to match his own. "To meet people? To get awesome lunchboxes from Steve? To be educated? I don't know, man, it sounds pretty awesome to me."

"Well, you've never been to school, have you?"

"I went to school a while..." Her eyes flickered defensively to her hands.

"Not long enough to see the ridiculousness of it all though, apparently." Clint wasn't watching her, he was flicking Cheerios at the wall, trying to make them bounce back at him so he could eat them in the air. He'd actually succeeded twice.

"What do you have against school?" Emma asked and took the last bite of her toast with narrowed eyes.

"I just think it's dumb. You never remember any of the shit you learn there anyways, so what's the use?" Emma frowned.

"I think it's important. I like learning things," she said. Clint snorted.

"I say it's useless. You never need to know any of that shit anyways."

"Did you even finish school? Go to college?" Emma snapped at him.

"No? Geeze, no need to get so defensive," he said, and put his hands in the air.

"Yeah, I think I do when you trash something I generally enjoy," she said, and stood up.

"I just don't think it's necessary for you to go to school!" Clint said.

"Well, I think that it's necessary for you to get your priorities straight," she snapped at him and walked over to the elevator.

"No need to get so touchy!" he called after her, but she walked into the elevator and shot him a sarcastic smile before the doors closed. Clint sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a frown.

Emma took the elevator down to Bucky's place, to calm her nerves. Why did Clint have to be so thick-headed? He probably got less concussions than Nat with that thick skull.

When the doors slid apart, Emma was greeted with... Chaos.

Complete and utter chaos.

Books were everywhere, Bucky's bedside table was smashed to pieces, and his couch had been thrown into one of the walls, leaving it split in half on the floor. His bedsheets were tossed around, like he had been trashing in his sleep, and literally every alarmbell in Emma's mind went off.

She really should leave, and call on Steve to fix this, because she was strong, yes, but her physique was far from superior to Bucky's, and he must have had a really really bad night.

But when it came to Bucky, Emma had a soft spot, a huge one at that, and even though her mind was screaming at her to leave, she just couldn't.

"Bucky?" she called into the too silent room. "James? You there?" She carefully stepped over his overturned desk, her eyes flickering over her surroundings, searching for threats. "It's Emma. I'm all alone. It's just you and me, Buck."

Her breaths had gone silent, her footsteps too, and now she saw that the door to the bathroom was off it's hinges. From where she was standing, she could see that the mirror was smashed, with a fistprint in the middle of a maze of cracks.

"Bucky?" she called out again.

Suddenly, she heard a movement behind her, and she spun around, only to find herself face-to-face with an angry, totally out of it, Bucky.

His eyes were dazed, like he wasn't aware of what he was doing, and he probably wasn't, because he took a swing at her.

"Oh, jesus fuck," was all Emma could get out as she ducked his fists, grunting as she backed into a table. "Bucky stop!" she exclaimed as she grabbed his hand, her eyes meeting his for only a second before he wrenched her hand off of him.  
"Please!" she nearly whispered when he grabbed her arm instead and brought it behind her back, pushing her down onto the table. "Ow, fuck! You're hurting me, please Bucky, stop..." She closed her eyes and prepared for the worst, he couldn't even remember her right now, what hadn't he done to defenseless little girls when he was still the Winter Solider? Killed their families?

Fuck, she should have left when she had the chance.

But suddenly Bucky was frozen in place, not moving, just breathing, and Emma saw a lifeline in this very stormy situation.

"James, let me go. I'm not trying to hurt you. In fact, you're hurting me right now," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. It didn't work the way she wanted too, she was actually a little scared, and that Bucky was holding her arm so tight it would bruise really wasn't helping. "Please. It's just me, Emma. We're in the 21th century. The date is September 10th. We're safe."

He let go of her and backed up a few steps, and Emma sighed quietly with relief as she looked back at him, rolling her shoulder to lessen the pain. He blinked blearily, and shook his head, as if he had water in his ear.

"Bucky?" she said gently, and his face scrunched up in a grimace.

"You should go," he nearly whispered.

"What?"

"Go!" he suddenly shouted, and Emma flinched, and quickly stood up.

"Okay..." she said and jumped over the desk quickly. "I'm sorry. It's okay. I'll-"

"Leave!" he yelled, and smashed the table next to him, and Emma's eyes were tearing up as she dashed into the elevator again.

When the doors closed, she collapsed on the floor, swallowing hard. Wow. She really needs to start thinking before doing something. Adding 'life-risk check' to the list of things she really needs to get, or she's going to get herself killed. An out-of control Bucky was not on that other list she had, of things she could handle, apparently. 

With a groan, she realized she hadn't even pressed a button.

"Jarvis, take me to Tony's workshop."

"Of course, Miss," the AI responded.

\---

Tony had ran his hand through his hair so many times that he should statistically be bald by now. The numbers weren't adding up, he'd been at this since four am when Peter woke him up, and he still couldn't figure it out.

Why wasn't his prototype working?

"Gah... Jay, bump the numbers up by one percent and run it again," he said, and heard the hissing of the doors opening behind him.

"Hi To-"

"Not now," he growled, and Emma bit her tongue. Wow. They really didn't want her here.

Swallowing hard, she nodded.

"Oka-"

"I said go away!" Tony exclaimed with another infuriated tug at his hair, and Emma flinched, nodded again as she stepped out of his lab.

She didn't even notice that the ground was starting to get blurry until she felt a hot tear stream down her cheek. _Fine_. If they wanted her to go away, she would.

"Jarvis, my floor please," she said, her voice not quite the kind of steady she wanted it to be.

"Is there something wrong, miss Emma?" Jarvis asked. Emma shook her head.

"I'm just... Gathering that itty bit of courage I got left," she said, and took a shaky breath, swiping at the goddamned tears flowing down her cheeks.

"And why would that be?"

"To run again," she decided, and the words sparked a pang of sadness in the pit of her belly. Again. She didn't want to go back to the circus, she'd have to get new contacts, find people, get cash again. Maybe get another identity? She'd always liked the name Mabel. Maybe she could go Mabel.

Jarvis was no doubt trying to talk her out of it as the elevator doors opened, but she wasn't listening, she was plotting her escape route, she wasn't going to break a window this time, that was really too dramatic.

"-and that is possibly not a-"

"Jarvis, be a ray of fucking sunshine and stop talking?" Emma interrupted as she grabbed a backpack she had gotten for school, began stuffing vital things into it, a thick sweater, a tanktop, the knife that Clint and Natasha had gotten her for her birthday. She almost forgot her necklace, the tiny chain on her nightstand, but now wasn't the time to hold it.

So, she clasped it around her neck, the chilled swallow resting right below her clavicles.

"Alright," Emma muttered, and walked back to the elevator, every step hurting her to her very soul. "Please don't tell them I've left. Please, Jarvis, they won't even notice, but just..."

"Where are you going, miss Emma?" Jarvis asked, concern in his voice.

"Out the door and out of here."

\---


	32. Clint Is In Trouble And Tacos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten this a couple of times, bc I'm really just pulling white and yellows talk right out of my ass, but hey it's something  
> Enjoy!

 

When Natasha came back to the tower after a long walk, she asked who was in.

"Sir is in his workshop, Captain Rogers and Peter are playing in the common room with Dr. Banner and Thor, and Agent Barton is playing video games on the tv, Agent," Jarvis replied, and Natasha frowned as she let Lucky off his leash.

"What are Emma and Bucky up to?" she asked as she got in the elevator, pressing the common floor button. Lucky was happily wagging his tail as he sat down after his long walk with her, and she was happy for the company without the talk.

"Sergeant Barnes is in his room, suspiciously watching the cleaner bots clean up the chaos he created as he woke up from a nightmare this morning," Jarvis replied. Natasha's eyes narrowed at the ceiling.

"Jarvis, where is Emma?" she asked, spelling it out slowly. Jarvis took a moment to reply.

"She is not in the building, Agent Romanoff," he replied regretfully.

"Why not?" Natasha asked as the doors opened on the common floor. She exited into the kitchen, Lucky scurried off into the common room as she stared at the ceiling expectantly.

"She may have mentioned running away..." Jarvis informed her. Natasha's eyes went wide.

"What?! Where did she go before she left?"

"She ate breakfast with Agent Barton at twelve p.m., then young Emma went downstairs to Sergeant Barnes, and then she visited Sir in his workshop."

"What time is it now?"

"It is currently six fifty-four p.m., miss." Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, before yelling:

"Clint!"

\---

With Emma's shitty luck, of course it would be raining. The day had started with sunshine, but now the rain was beating down on New York as she wandered the streets, and her brain was still straining to comprehend how shitty her luck was right now.

A man's side connected with hers, and she stumbled, ready to fire off an apology when the man only stared at her with disgusted eyes, and kept walking. She pulled her soaked hoodie up further, and stared at the ground.

She saw a police car pass, and because she was a paranoid little shit, she threw herself into an alley, breathing heavily.

She shouldn't be here. She should be home, with Natasha, and Clint, and Tony, and Steve, and Bruce, and Thor, and Bucky, and Peter, and Pepper, and she should not be out in the rain. But she was not going back.

Emma leaned against a wet brick wall, closing her eyes.

She had felt so at home this time...

Her cheeks were wet, but if it was from tears or from the rain, she didn't know. Her hair was plastered to her face, and she was shivering. With her shitty luck, she would get pneumonia in this rain. Although, she couldn't even remember the last time she was sick.

"Fuck."

Emma blinked. She hadn't said that. Slowly, she pushed off the wall, staring down the alley. It wasn't dark outside, it never was in the summer really, but the clouds were mulling the light, making the alley look gloomy and pretty scary.

"Yeah, good thinking Yellow, where do you _think_ I'm trying to put my arm?" the voice said again.

"Hello?" she called into the alley. She heard a rustling, and a masked face popped out of the dumpster, a red mask with white eyes and black ovals around them.

"Black Widow?" the mask asked. Emma sighed loudly.

"No, not Natasha, I just look the like her and Cl- why are you in a dumpster?" She wasn't in the mood for more masked heroes today.

"Well, I was eating Taco Bell and minding my own business when a dude came out of fucking nowhere and tried to slice and dice me. I dropped my taco as I unalived him, and then I saw these dogs that ran away from the pound and I chased them down. Lucky for me, they accepted me into their pack and we meet every Wednesday to discuss the destruction of cats. Wait. Should not have told you that, it's top secret. Right, then I was attacked by more peeps who should know their place by now, and they did actually succeed in slicing and dicing me and throwing me in a dumpster." Emma blinked.

"Oh for fucks sake, can't I get AWAY from superheroes for one moment!? I mean, I know I asked for it, but I don't know how to handle this shit!" she yelled at the sky pouring rain over them.

[Does she seriously think that will change author lady's mind?] White said, and Wade shrugged as he pressed his upper body closer to his detached arm to get his healing factor to work faster.

"I'm not sure what she's doing actually. Maybe she's a little overworked?" he suggested out loud, and the girl glanced over at him, confused.

{She's a kid. She doesn't work. And she looks like Black Widow... _A lot_ like her} Yellow pointed out.

"Yeah, why is that?" Wade asked out loud.

"Why is what?" Emma asked, shifting her footing, correcting the strap of her backpack. The white eyes of the mask seemed to follow her every move. "Who are you?"

"You don't know who I am? Who are _you_?" Wade retorted, and grabbed his other arm, flexing his fingers where he sat inside the dumpster.

"I asked you first!"

"Well, I asked you second!" She sighed loudly.

"I'm Emma..." she said carefully. The man very suddenly stood up in the dumpster, making the lid almost fly off, and Emma flinched, backed a few steps.

"I am Deadpool, also known as the Merc with a Mouth, the insane mercenary, constant fourth-wall breaker, and killing machine!" he said cheerfully, and Emma's eye's went huge.

"You.. You're another hero...." Deadpool's cheery attitude dimmed a little, and he hopped out of the dumpster. His whole red and black suit was stained with blood, and Emma remembered the whole slice-and-dice ordeal that he had told her about. Thank god she missed out on the blood thing.

{Did she miss the 'insane' and 'killer' parts?}

[She's just a kid, she must not know about the killer thing being an actual thing yet]

"I'm not one of 'em Avengers, but I know my way around being a hero," Deadpool said, shrugging as he wiped blood off one of his katanas on his suit. Emma followed his movements. The boxes laughed at him. Him? A hero? Ridiculous.

"Well, then, you can tell all your hero friends to stop being such fuck-asses."

"What? Did you just call me a fuck-ass?" Deadpool fired back, and Emma's eyes went wide.

"You can go suck a fuck," she said slowly, her eyes daring him, taunting him. Deadpool's mask was strangely expressive, and he more or less blinked innocently towards her. She was completely stunned.

"Oh, please, tell me, Elizabeth, how exactly does one suck a fuck?" Emma raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms infront of her chest, tilting her chin up.

"You want me to tell you?"

They were silent for a full two seconds before both of them burst out laughing, a laughing fit that made Deadpool immediately like the little girl.

"What are you, twelve? How have you seen Donnie Darko?" Wade giggled. Emma smirked.

"Me and my best friend have a lot of movie marathons, and we've watched so much shit, it's truly brilliant," she sighed happily. Her face changed to one of bitterness, but then it was all back to childish glee again.

"Hey... It's pretty late, isn't it? Why is a little baby girl like you out on the streets? I've heard it can be quite dangerous, you know, crazy mercenaries running around."

"Mercenary," Emma repeated. "Gun-man for hire."

"Yup," Deadpool grinned, his mask forming accordingly. Wow, how did that even work?

"Well, I can be pretty dangerous myself," she said. "So those crazy mercenaries really should be watching their asses."

"I've got a pretty nice one, I could watch it all day if I chopped my head off."

"How would you survive that?"

"I'm immortal, darling girl," he said, checking his pouches so that he had everything. Man, he wanted chimichangas. Or Taco Bell.

[I wanna say pancakes though. Isn't there an IHOP somewhere around here?]

{Chimichangas. Right now. _Need them_ }

"Whoa. That's gotta suck," she said, shivering at the cold of the rain, that had gone from a hard pitter patter to a light drizzle. Deadpool froze mid-movement.

"You don't think it'd be nice to be immortal? 'Cause I'm living the life over here, hun."

"A constant life, yeah. That's really gotta suck," Emma said, looking down at the ground. And then her stomach growled.

She hadn't eaten since this morning with Clint, and it was taking a toll on her.

"Fuck," she muttered. She didn't have any money, and if she used Tony's card, they would find her. If they were even looking. Wade heard the growling.

"You hungry? Cause I sure as hell am. You don't happen to like mexican food? You look like you like mexican food."

\---

"What the fuck did you do!?" Clint shouted at Tony as he fisted his hand in Tony's shirt, who looked more ashamed than Clint had ever seen him, and damn if he shouldn't be.

"I thought she went to find Bucky or something, she does that whenever she's sad, or one of you guys!" Tony said defensively. Natasha growled.

"You made our kid run away. Now _find_ her," she said, and Clint let him go, pushed him down into a chair.

"Jarvis, in what direction did Emma go when she left?" Tony asked.

"I would say out of the building," Jarvis said. Natasha frowned.

"Where did she go, Jarvis? Tell me, or I swear I'll get my Widow Bites."

"Out of the building," he replied. Tony sighed, rubbed his temples.

"Emma told him to say that. Override her command, Jay, and tell us where she went."

"She was not entirely certain herself where she was going. She said 'anywhere' when I asked her," Jarvis replied, sounded slightly regretful. Natasha growled.

"Scan for her measurements and facial attributes on the city's security cameras," she demanded, and Clint sank down in a chair, running his hands through his hair.

"God, why am I so worried? She's a responsible kid, she can stay out of trouble..." he muttered.

"It may have something to do with your last conversation with Miss Emma being an argument," Jarvis suggested. Natasha's look snapped up to Clint, her features blank, but her eyes were angry.

"You did what?" Natasha asked, her voice cool. That tone made Tony wince, and would have made other greater men fall to their knees, but Clint groaned, wincing on the inside.

"We fought about school! I thought it didn't matter, and we started arguing about it, and she left! I thought she was going to go shoot or something!" he exclaimed, and stood up again, catching the flicker of pure rage in Natasha's green eyes. That particular rage spurr should really signal him to get cover, because Natasha rarely lost her cool, and when she did, it usually went nuclear.

"So, you mean, you _and_ Tony argued with her, _and_ Bucky had one of his fits with her when she was having a bad day?" she more or less hissed. Clint's jaw clenched.

"Yeah, well, at least I talk enough to her to argue with her," he snapped back, and Natasha's green eyes went wide with shock and anger and hurt, and damn it, he wanted to take it back, but the adrenaline from all the shouting and how close Natasha was now standing to him, her face mere inches from his, were driving him forward.

"I talk to her!" Natasha shouted this time.

"Huh, really?! I wouldn't know, since you don't talk shit to me anymore either!" he yelled back. She looked about ready to punch him, when Tony stopped them both.

"Back off Legolas, stop the screaming match, I found her."

\---

Deadpool was, without a doubt, Emma's favorite not-hero ever. He never actually stopped talking, but he let her have her turn to talk too, and they enjoyed a lot of lame ass references from various shows and movies. Deadpool had really seen them all.

The Taco Bell they went to instantly greeted them with tons and tons of tacos that Deadpool more or less inhaled, and Emma just chewed on one; despite her stomach grumbling, it lurched as she thought of being on the run again, running from the nicest home she'd ever had.

"What's your favorite item of clothing?" Emma asked suddenly.

{The floral apron and nothing underneath}

[Really? I was going to go with that pretty, frilly, pink dress]

"Red and that kind of pink usually clashes," Wade pointed out to the boxes. Emma stayed silent, waited for an answer. Him talking to himself didn't bother her, a woman at her circus had been talking to herself, and she could see into the future.

[Red as in blood stains red or red as in your mask?]

"My mask. Or blood. Both?" he suggested, inhaled another taco.

{I still vote for the apron}

"Alright. Yellow says my floral apron, and White says my pink frilly dress. I can't decide which one."

"Cool. You like dresses?" she asked.

"Yup," he said, popping the 'p' at the end.

"Rad. I like my cape."

"No capes!" Deadpool said, squinting at her, and Emma laughed.

"Yeah, but my cape is magical. So... It doesn't get stuck on anything. It's not just a cape."

"How is it not just a cape?"

"It's magical!" Emma repeated, frowning as she took a bite of her taco.

Suddenly the door slammed open, and Clint and Natasha came bursting in, with Bucky and Steve in tow.

"Emma!" Natasha and Clint called in unison, and suddenly Emma was enveloped in two pairs of arms, squeezing her tightly. Deadpool nearly choked on his taco.

"Avengers!" he squealed. Natasha and Clint weren't paying attention, Clint was kissing Emma's hair as his arms enveloped both Emma and Natasha, and Natasha was just hugging her tightly, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Uh, guys? I can't breathe!" Emma choked out from her guardians' grasp.

"Oh thank fucking God, Em, I'm so sorry," Clint said quietly, and Natasha just stroked Emma's back.

"Deadpool?" Steve suddenly said, and Emma noticed Bucky's presence.

"Help me!" she mouthed at him, and he just frowned at her slightly. Clint and Natasha looked up simultaneously, and Natasha was just about to grab the gun she most probably had hidden on her person, when Emma groaned.

"Wade, save me!" she flailed, but Wade was completely starstruck.

"Why are you hanging with him?" Clint asked, a little concerned.

"I found little darling girl over there in an alley, lookin' like a sad wet puppy," he said. "She looks just like you. Say, when did you two have her again?"

{Hawkeye has a nice butt}

[...Oh, I'm with you. Not a perfect ass, but a nice one. Widow is one lucky gal]

{'Gal'? Really? We're not that old, are we?}

[How should _I_ know?]

"Wait, we're discussing Jeremy Renner's ass? Because damn."

{Don't discuss Renner in front of the Avengers, idiot!}

[They'll think you're even more crazy, and you won't get to see Emma again]

{And we want to. Because she's pretty rad}

"Right," Deadpool said, shaking his head at his boxes. "Hi Avengers!"

"Deadpool," Captain America replied respectfully.

"Damn. You're really trying to be nice to me. Must be a forties thing."

{I thought he was born in the thirties?}

[Nah. Born in the twenties, but raised in the forties. And thirties?]

Captain America tried not to scoff.

"Deadpool, these are my parents. Not biological," Emma said, motioning to the two agents that now had stopped squeezing her half to death, and instead stared at Deadpool sceptically, although the Widow was much better at hiding it. Hawkeye just looked downright confused.

"We've met," Deadpool cooed.

"When we've tried to stop you from killing someone, yeah, we've met," Clint snapped. Natasha's face remained a clean slate, and Bucky was looking around the place like he was looking for a grenade with its pin out. It must really be a struggle for him to be outside on a day like this. 

But, Emma was nothing if not stubborn, and even though it hurt to see her friend like that, she bit back her soft look at him, and remembered his sharp words, still ringing in her mind.

"Oh. Well, he hasn't killed me. He shared tacos with me though. That was pretty great," Emma said, and slid out from both Natasha and Clint's grasp and instead seated herself next to Deadpool.

To everyone's surprise, except for Deadpool's, he didn't see what the fuss was about, Bucky slid into the booth, in front of Deadpool and Emma. Deadpool had a taco about three inches from his mouth, frozen in place.

"Why did you run?" Bucky asked, his voice low and gruff and with his eyes pinned on Emma. Emma didn't respond. "Oh, now I have to be the talkative one, huh?" She shrugged, and took a bite of a taco. Geeze, these were good! She had to check if Steve knew- Oh. Wait. "Come home with us."

"Why should I?" Emma snapped at him.

"Because you're cold and wet and you miss your bed."

"Maybe I don't at all?"

"You do. There is nothing in that tower that you love more than your bed. I'm not even sure you love your phone as much as you love your bed. Hell, you might love your bed more than you love me, I'm pretty sure that's the case right now. Either way, you miss it, and if you come back home with us, I promise that I will sit and watch any old shitty horror movie you want with you." A small smile spread across Emma's face.

"Even 'The Mummy'?"

"Even 'The Mummy Resurrected'." Emma grinned.

"Promise?"

"I promise, doll."

"Alright," Emma said softly. Another marathon with Bucky was a very comforting thought, and a small voice in her head was screaming at her to stop getting so attached, but she had learned to ignore the fuck out of her inner voices by now, they rarely spoke the truth. Bucky nodded and stood up. "Wait! Do you have a pen?" Bucky shook his head, Clint patted his pockets, and Steve did too. Natasha fished a pen out of her pocket.

"We live in a world of smartphones, tablets and brilliant tech, and you carry a pen around?" Clint said, not believing his eyes. Natasha just shrugged.

"I can kill someone with a pen, should the necessity arise," she said, and Emma laughed, scribbled her number onto a napkin and handed it to Wade.

"Text me. I wanna see your guns," she grinned, and linked her arm with Bucky's. Clint grabbed her soaked backpack and slung it over his shoulder with a huff. Natasha's hand ghosted over Clint's, a silent apology that made him feel guilty, and they needed to talk later. Like, badly.

"Alright!" Wade whooped. "I got a girl's number."

"I'm thirteen, don't get your hopes up, pretty boy," Emma said with a laugh, and Wade grinned. Bucky huffed.

"Let's go," he muttered, and gently tugged on Emma's arm to walk out of there. Emma waved at Wade, who waved back, and then they were gone.

{Wait, we only get one chapter? Rude!}

[Nah, I've seen some other snippets were we're here]

{Hey... Look at that! We're dating-}

\---

When they came back to the tower, Emma was showered in hugs. Thor nearly cracked her rib, Bruce rubbed her back in little circles as he breathed a sigh of relief, and Tony looked slighty furious.

"We should ground you, no more tv, or phone, or friends," he said with his arms across his chest. "And no car."

"I don't have friends, or a car," Emma pointed out.

"I'll give you one."

"Sweet!"

"It's gone!"

"Tony," Steve said gently. Tony gave his fiancé a look, and then he just heaved a sigh, and pulled her into his arms, kissed her hair.

"Stop scaring the shit out of us like that, kiddo," he murmured. Emma shook her head into his chest.

"Nope. Never." He chuckled.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier," Tony said. Emma shrugged.

"I acknowledge your apology," she said, and Tony hadn't expected anything less. He nodded, and Clint laid a hand on Natasha's lower back, gently pushing her into the kitchen while Emma told them about her encounter with Deadpool ("DEADPOOL?!" Tony exclaimed with disgust).

"I'm sorry too, Nat," Clint said quietly. "I hate fighting with you."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry too. We were angry and stressed and scared. It happens, Clint," she said and nodded. It was unusual for Clint to back down like this, but she didn't want to be angry with him. All she wanted to feel right now was relief that Emma was safe and home.

He smiled a smile he reserved for only her, and opened his arms, pulling her into a warm hug. He took a deep breath, and Natasha's red locks tickled his nose. He blinked.

"Is that a a new shampoo?" Clint asked.

"Are you smelling my hair?" Natasha asked doubtfully, looking up at him.

"No, I'm breathing. Do you wanna arrest me for breathing?" Natasha offered a small smile.

"Yes, it's a new shampoo. Are you protesting the fact that I have new shampoo?"

"Nope, just... checking," Clint said, and let her go, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Upstairs?"

"Yeah. Let's go upstairs."

\---


	33. Odd Wake Up Calls And Indesputable Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for input and comments and Kudos! Totally makes me feel better about this fic being super long...  
> I promise the Clintasha is coming! It is, very soon!  
> Enjoy!

 

When Emma woke up this time, she actually screamed at the top of her lungs, but quickly silenced herself, panting and taking whimpering breaths. She placed her shaking hands on her face and wiped away the sweat. Something had been stirring in her mind ever since she got back home, and apparently, it decided to act the fuck up right now.

Great. 

For a few seconds, all she could hear was her own labored breaths, until suddenly, her door swung open, and Clint was standing there with his bow, and Natasha with her Widow Bites, both of them looking like they just woke up. Clint's hair was mussed in the cutest way and Natasha's legs were bare, but both pairs of eyes screamed murder.

The only relaxing thing about how they stood, was that Natasha was wearing a huge washed out gray tee that had an eagle with the text 'born in the U.S.', ironically enough, as a print across the chest, and that Clint's boxers were brightly purple and yellow with a pattern she couldn't make out in this light.

"Emma?" Clint said as both of the agents assessed the situation, and deemed that there was no threat. Natasha quickly made her way over to the bed.

"What's the matter?" Natasha asked gently, sitting down on Emma's bedside, but not touching her. She knew, if anyone, how even the gentlest touch could scare her more than soothe her on a bad night.

"Oh... Uh... Nothing," Emma tried, but her voice was shaking, and so were her hands, and Clint turned her bedside lamp on.

"Screaming _does_ sound a lot like nothing, doesn't it Tash?" Clint said sarcastically, but quickly closed his mouth when he saw Emma's eyes shine like she was about to cry. "Oh, sweetie..."

Natasha gently squeezed Emma's legs over the covers. Clint settled next to Emma in a one armed hug as she managed a few heartwrenching sobs. Natasha gave Clint an exasperated look, and he gave one back.

Bad guys, yeah, they could deal with that, but how were they going to deal with this? And at this time of the day? Morning? Night? _God, whatever, your kid is crying_ , _Clint, do someting!_ he thought to himself, and Natasha swallowed hard.

"возлюбленный, why don't you come sleep with me for the night?" she said suddenly, and Emma looked up, confusion in her teary eyes. Clint was literally just as surprised.

The only person Natasha had used a Russian petname on was, well, him. His had been немного птичка for a while, wich was essentially 'little birdy'. The first time she had called him that, his heart had nearly skipped a beat. He knew enough Russian curse words to know that she wasn't calling him an idiot, and once he looked it up later, the grin he sported for the rest of the week nearly split his face in half.

"Really?" Emma asked quietly, her small hands clutching Clint's strong arm.

"Yeah," Natasha replied, a miniature small smile on her lips. Emma looked up at Clint.

"You too?" she asked, her eyed wide and filled with tears. _Godammit_ , why did all the women in his life have puppy eyes?

"Sure..." he said gently, smiling at her. Then he looked up at Natasha. "If Nat is okay with it."

Whatever she had to do to never ever hear Emma sobbing again.

"Yeah. Your bed or mine?" she asked quietly as Emma got out of the bed with her pillow in her arms and Natasha's arm around her shoulders. Clint scrubbed at his hair with both hands, yawning as he did so.

"Yours. The sheets are softer. Lucky!" The golden retriever came out of Clint's room, and joined them with a wagging tail.

"It's called fabric softener, Clint," Natasha said as the strange little family walked over to Natasha's room, weapons still in hand.

"I'm too tired to be talking laundry with you right now," he decided as he slung his quiver off by the right nightstand, the one furthest away from the door. He knew Natasha wanted to sleep furthest away from the air conditioner from experience, and from other experience, he knew that the vent was on the right side of the room.

Emma carefully crawled into the center of the bed, and placed her pillow there. Natasha pulled her Widow Bites off, and joined Emma in the bed, and Clint followed suit with another yawn. Lucky jumped up on the foot of the bed, and promptly fell asleep.

Natasha gently placed a hand on Emma's shoulder, with her stomach to her back, and closed her eyes, trying to comprehend the fact that she was sharing her bed with her _daughter_ , and then Clint's toe nudged her shin, made her eyes flick open. 

In the darkness, she could still make out Clint's blue eyes, and his small smile when Emma's hand grabbed his arm and draped it over herself and partly Natasha.

Their eyes met, and he smiled even larger, made Natasha smile too.

The circumstances of how they turned into this weren't the best, but if Natasha hadn't understood how she felt before that moment, she was quickly alerted by the way her stomach fluttered when he gave her that look.

Little did she know, Clint had come to the exact same conclusion at the exact same time.

\---

"Barton!" Tony called as he walked into Clint's room like he owned the place. Which, well, he did. "Barton, wake up!" he said as he walked over to the bed, only to find it... Empty. "Jarvis, where's Barton?"

"Agent Barton is currently in Agent Romanoff's bed, Sir," Jarvis replied. Tony made a victorious shout.

"I knew it! I won!" he whooped, and ran over to Natasha's bedroom door.

"Not exactly-" Jarvis began when Tony opened the door, thinking he'd find the two agents fucked out in a heap of sweat, but nope.

Just the sweetest fucking thing he'd ever seen the two agents do.

Natasha was curled protectively around Emma from the left, and Clint was protectively curled around her and partly Natasha from the right. His hand was resting on the curve of Natasha's hip, and Emma's hand was splayed across Clint's chest, whilst the other rested on the hand Natasha had around Emma's stomach. Lucky was gone, probably eating, but his dent in the sheets on the end of the bed was still there.

They looked like a little cuddle-huddle. If Tony hadn't known them, and if there wasn't a tiny arsenal stacked on both nighstands, he'd have thought they were any normal family.

"Please tell me you've taken pictures of this?" Tony said quietly to Jarvis, as Natasha woke up. She didn't move however, or open her eyes. She listened to two sleeping breaths mere inches away from her, and heard another familiar voice in the room.

"I have, Sir," Jarvis replied just as quietly.

"Text one to Romanoff."

"Now or when you have left, Sir?" Tony, she realized it was Tony, and he was going to do something stupid, like scare them, and she wasn't having that shit right now. 

So she stirred, and regretfully sat up, blinking her eyes open. Tony froze.

"Good morning Stark. What's the occasion?" she asked as she placed the knife she always kept under her pillows, on her nightstand.

"Oh, did I wake you up?" Tony asked, his voice not too loud. Maybe he wasn't being an ass today.

"Yes. It's understandable. I'm a light sleeper," she said.

"Even here?" he asked, and a furrow in his brow appeared, one she recognized as caring. He always wanted the best for his teammates. He might act like an ass a lot, but he really did care. She sighed with her lips shut tight.

"Yeah. It's easier to relax here though," she replied. She could tell from Clint's breathing that he wasn't sleeping anymore, but she didn't let Tony notice.

"You know, I have ceiling turrets. I could get some down here, too," he offered. Natasha smiled, a small smile and a tired one, but it was a smile.

"That would make me sleep easier. Thank you, Tony," Natasha said, and Tony beamed.

"Jarvis, you heard the woman, get me some ceiling turrets to install," he said with a wave at the ceiling.

"As you wish, Sir," he said.

"What are you, a genie?"

"If I were a genie, your wishes would have ran out a long time ago, Sir."

"Don't you sass me!" he laughed.

"Why are you here, Tony?" Natasha asked.

"Right, I need to upgrade the adaptive soundsystem on Barton's hearing aids," he said, waving in Clint's direction. "I got a great idea for an upgrade at two am, but Steve made me wait until at least ten, but he's on his run right now, so I thought I'd just... Sneak in."

Natasha glanced at her alarmclock. She rarely used it, so it was more for show than anything real by now. The big red numbers showed 7:12.

She placed a hand on Clint's bicep, _damn him and his chiseled arms_ , and shook him carefully. She knew he was awake, but she didn't want to disturb Emma by just calling his name.

"Clint," she said quietly, and he blinked his eyes open, giving her a small smile before looking grumpy.

"Why the fuck am I awake and what time is it?" he grumbled, and began shifting, until he saw Emma in his arms. Clint smiled softly, and gently untangled himself from her, sat up. He looked over at Tony and brushed a strand of hair out of Emma's face. "Tin man. What can we do for you at seven am?"

"I need to upgrade your hearing aids," he told him.

"Why now?"

"I had an idea!" Tony said defensively. Clint sighed.

"Fine. Let me get dressed," he grumbled and slid out from under the covers, yawning. He stretched, and Natasha could feel her mouth go dry as she watched his back muscles move under his skin. Jesus christ, she'd always had a thing for muscular backs...

Clint grabbed his quiver and bow and walked out, with Tony after him.

"I can upgrade your bow-"

"Keep your hands off my bow, Tony."

"Fine! Whatever..."

\---

When Emma woke up, it was to soft humming and warmth next to her, and quiet murmurs in Russian.

Yup. Two Russian voices. Not one. Now that was unusual. She opened her eyes slowly, and felt a gentle hand in her hair, stroking gently. That was Natasha's hand, and she'd heard Natasha's humming before. She had a very soothing voice, and Emma was a breath away from falling asleep again, when she recognized the other voice who spoke in Russian.

Bucky?

She opened her eyes again and blinked a few times, seeing the sun glinting on his metal arm. Yeah. Definitely Bucky. Why was Bucky in Natasha's bed?

" **She's awake**." Fuck if Emma knew what he just said. Natasha stopped carding her hands through Emma's hair.

"Morning," Nat said quietly, and Emma rolled over on her back, tucking her hands under the covers in such a Clint-like way, Natasha nearly gasped. She grumbled.

"What time is it before you say good morning?" Emma asked sleepily.

"It's ten am, doll," Bucky said on her other side, and Emma looked up at him.

"What're you doing here?"

"I can leave if you want."

"That's not what I asked," Emma said and threw an arm over his legs, as if to prevent him from leaving. He patted her hand with his metallic one.

"I came up at nine to see if you were up for movies, turns out you were still asleep," he said, his voice quiet. Emma saw on his tired face that he'd been awake much longer than he made it look like, but he didn't look exhausted in the way she'd seen him yesterday, the nightmare kind of exhausted. He just looked tired. Normal person tired. Normal person sad, too. Now, _that_ was weird.

"Oh," Emma said, her eyebrows furrowing. Bucky didn't know why something in his gut tugged as he looked at her. His mind briefly flicked back to yesterdays events, and he inwardly winced.

Bucky had lashed out before, but those few times he had, it'd been Stevie, or Natasha, who was there to either try to beat the living shit out of him, or calm him down by pinning him down and talking him out of it. Guess who did what. 

That's what he liked about Natasha. When he'd first met her, really met her and not shot at her, she'd spoken to him in a clipped tone and angry Russian about not killing anyone. How he didn't have to. Bucky always assumed Barton had used the same schtick on her, and it had obviously worked.

That didn't mean it worked on him.

But still, Natasha had quickly earned his respect, from the way that she walked, talked, and how absolutely lethal she was. Plus, she was usually willing to talk to him about lots of shit, in either Russian or English, whichever he wanted. And that was something neither Steve nor Emma could give him. Yeah, Barton could speak Russian fluently, but he only spoke Russian when Bucky initiated the conversation in Russian, which never happened, or when Natasha talked to him in Russian.

He prefered Natasha's voice in Russian.

She'd actually talked him into staying until Emma woke up, because that strange tug in his gut wanted him to leave.

"Sure. Mummy Ressurrected?" Emma grinned.

"Wanna eat breakfast first, maybe?" Bucky suggested, and the little girl yawned as she grabbed her pillow, crawling off the bed.

"Alright Bonnie, let's hit the road," Emma said, yawning.

"Why am I Bonnie? Shouldn't I be Clyde?"

"You can be either, But I like the name Clyde," Emma said as she stretched in the same way Clint had, just a few hours before her. Natasha's sharp intake of breath was quiet, but Bucky heard it, and gave her a puzzled look. A noise like that from Natasha was like a scream of panic from anyone else.

" **What?** " Bucky asked, his voice lower and gruffer as he spoke in Russian.

" **He... He does that too...** " Natasha murmured as Emma walked out. " **Is Stark sure that she's not Clint's? She doesn't have to be mine, but Clint...** "

" **You two aren't her biological parents** ," Bucky said, shaking his head.

" **How do you know?** " Natasha asked as Bucky got up from the bed. He hesitated.

" **Because I killed them.** " With that, he walked out, and Natasha sat frozen on her bed, still in shock.

\---

"Are you sure?" Natasha pressed.

" _Yes,_ Natasha, I am very sure. My machines are never wrong," Tony said for the third time. Dummy whirred from the other side of the room, where Peter had a playpen of baby safe stuff set up. Dummy was watching the little boy and making noises. "There's nothing wrong with you, Dummy. You know I love you." Dummy chirped happily, and Tony smiled.

"How sure are you?" Natasha pressed, and Tony groaned loudly, like this conversation was causing him physical pain.

"The DNA samples tell me that neither of you are biologically related to Emma! Why so itchy about it all of a sudden?" he asked.

"Show me the match." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"I can never tell with you."

"I'll give you a clue: I'm not." Tony sighed.

"Jarvis, bring up Natasha's, Clint's, and Emma's DNA samples and check for matches, _again_ ," he said, stressing the last word with a raised eyebrow at Natasha. But she stood her ground, and watched as three lines of light appeared on the screen. Red lines were drawn, but quickly disappeared.

The 'no match' popped up above the three lines of light, and Tony raised an eyebrow at her.

"See? No match." Natasha nodded slowly, but didn't spare him a glance, her arms crossed tightly over her chest in a defensive stance. He sighed. "Just because she acts like the both of you doesn't mean that she's biologically yours. She does have your creepy way of making murder eyes, and Clint's way of fighting, but she also got stuffed into an institute for little girls to be turned into killers, and lived with the circus. She just protects herself like you two do. Similar upbringing, similar way of life."

"But she stretched just like him," Natasha murmured.

"She what?" Tony said with an eyebrow raised.

"When Clint woke up, he stretched, and when Emma woke up, she stretched the exact same way," she said, louder this time. Tony snorted.

"You keep track of how people stretch?"

"No, but Clint does that weird thing when he stretches, clasps his hands behind his neck and presses his elbows in as far as they go before he stretches up," Natasha said. Tony grinned.

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he? Huh. Jarvis bring up the videofeed from Natasha's room from when Clint woke up and from when Emma woke up. Let's see the stretches side by side."

"Why, may I ask, Sir?" Jarvis asked with amusement as he did as he was asked.

"For the fun of it," Tony said. They were both quiet for a moment as they watched both of them stretch, almost in sync with each other. "Whoa. That's... Kinda creepy. Why do they do that?"

"I don't know. Emma has been here four months, do you think she's adapting our behaviors?" she asked thoughtfully.

"She should have started doing that pretty quickly, actually. Let's see, she does prefer the vents to the elevator, she does like the dummies with faces to punch more than the ones without it, she does shoot a bow, she does throw knives, albeit terribly, and she does have a soft spot for Russian ex-baddies, she must get that from Clint, and she does cheat a whole lot, that's from both of you, and she-"

"Tony," Natasha interrupted. He blinked, and looked up at her.

"Wow, I get why you were being itchy about the biological thing," Tony said.

"Why are you saying itchy, did Pepper talk to you about calling people bitchy?"

"Well, yeah, that too, but Steve's making me go PG13 for Peter," he said, and Natasha looked over at the wall.

"He's on the wall again," she supplied, and Tony shot up quicker than lightning.

"Peter!" he exclaimed as he got to the other side of the room with three impressive strides and plucked the, now whining, boy off the wall. "No, we don't go up on walls! Dummy, tell me when he does that! Bruce doesn't know how long his little baby spider powers last! He could fall off and hurt himself, and you wouldn't want that for your brother, would you?"

Dummy whirred sadly, and Natasha inwardly rolled her eyes. How Tony ever understood his robots was beyond understandable, and she just waved him off.

"Jarvis, could you find more movements that Emma does that's highly similar to me and Clint?" she asked and took Tony's chair.

"I can find a total of fifty-four movements that are highly similar to the ones you and Agent Barton perform daily," Jarvis supplied, and video feeds popped up everywhere, matching her movements and Emma's, and Clint and Emma's.

"How many match with Bucky?"

"Twelve, Agent."

"Only twelve?"

"Sergeant Barnes does not move enough for me to be able to compare the data, Agent." Natasha chuckled.

" **Clever boy** ," she mumbled. "Has he tried to disable the cameras on his floor?"

"He has not, Agent," Jarvis said in an amused tone. "He has, however, identified were they all are and does therefore stay out of their way whenever he can. Only when he is with miss Emma or Miss Lewis is he relaxed enough to display some personal characteristics."

"So he and Lewis are doing it?" Tony called.

"No way in hell, Bucky's scared to touch people," she said in a distracted manner as she watched a video feed of Bucky smiling at Darcy when she talked about something exciting on the couch. She scooted a little closer to him, and as if he didn't even notice what he was doing, which from the looks of it, he didn't, his real arm slipped from the back of the couch and landed on her shoulders, ever so lightly.

A look of pure horror flicked over his face for a mini second, but Darcy just smiled wider and scooted even closer to him, letting their bodies mold together. She absentmindedly started playing with his fingers, still talking, and Bucky nodded, his metal fingers fiddling with the pillow on his other side in a relaxed manner. He said something to Darcy, and she laughed, and he smiled a little more unguarded, his eyes drifting to her lips.

"Doesn't mean he can't change," Tony noted from the other side of the screen, watching the video feed, too, lightly swinging Peter in his arms. "Looks like he was doing fine."

"They're cute," Natasha noted.

"Meh, Lewis could do better," Tony said. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him through the screen. "Kidding! Geeze..."

"Don't ever say that around him, or I swear, I will end you," Natasha said, giving him a pointed glare. "He doesn't know when you're joking, and he's actually casually touching another human being that isn't Emma or Steve. He's doing so good and if you say that he's going to distance himself from her again, and he's gotten so far."

"You think they'll make it in the long run?" he asked as Peter snuggled against Tony's cheek, making Tony smile brightly.

"No." She was quiet for a second. "But I didn't think you and Steve were going to make it this far. I'll wait for them to prove me wrong or right."

"Wise," Tony nodded, then frowned. "Why didn't you think me and Steve would make it?"

"Because you have trust issues and Steve is patient."

"Doesn't that sound like the recipe for domestic bliss?"

"I thought you would get more pissed off at how patient he is and dump him before he dumps you," Natasha said calmly. "You did get pissed off, but somehow, Rhodey is a great influence on you, and here you are, cradling Steve's and your spider baby."

As if to make a point, Peter smacked his hand down on Tony's cheek with a 'splat'. He closed his eyes with a little sigh.

"I have web stuck on my face," he said in a monotone. "This was not in the parenting handbooks."

"I'm sure it wasn't." Tony looked her over a few seconds.

"I get this is a sensitive topic, I totally do, but, uh, you _do_ know how kids are made?" Natasha gave him a blank glance. "Alright, stupid question, I know, but that leads to my second question: if you think Emma is yours, then does that mean that you've had a baby?"

"Fuck off," Natasha said before she could hold her tongue, and Tony backed a step, because he knew when to not prod in something as sensitive as this apparently was.

"Whoa, sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to-"

"Don't."

Tony nodded.

"Right." Complete silence filled the room for a few seconds. "Does Barton kn-"

Natasha was out of the chair and out the door before he could even finish the sentence. He sighed.

"I came out alive, I'd say that's pretty good, right Petey?" Tony murmured, and gave his baby boy a kiss on his cheek.

\---


	34. Blue Monsters And Cuddly Nightlights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I got myself a beta, aka my awesome bud Elliot! He's not on ao3, he's just a grammar nerd and my only writing buddy.  
> Thanks for the lovely comments, and Kudos! They make me so happy!  
> This chapter is the longest one yet, I'm sure.  
> Enjoy! <3

 

When the alarm went off later that night, not everyone had to go. Actually, everyone did. Except for Tony. 

"Why do I have to stay behind?" he whined as Steve gave Peter's head a kiss, capturing Tony's lips moments after, in a heavier kiss that was most probably just supposed to be a peck.

"Because you were holding Peter when the alarm went off," Steve smiled. Tony was still pouting when Steve dragged the cowl over his head.

"This isn't fair!" he called when Steve got back in the elevator. 

"Love you!" Steve called back. Tony grumbled as he shifted Peter in his arms.

"Whadda ya say Petey, almost sleepytime for you, huh?" he said as Peter sucked his pacifier peacefully, watching the world around them with his lids at half mast. Tony smiled as he walked into his and Steve's bedroom, laying him down there on the bed so he could watch over him until he fell asleep. 

Peter fussed a little before he settled down to get changed into his pj's, a gift from Pepper. It was blue with little spider webs on it. She tought it was hilarious, Steve thought it was sweet, and Tony just thought it was very inspired. When he was done with dressing Peter, he looked down on his handy-work.

"Yup. I'm the best at onesies. Text Pepper a picture of this," he said. 

"Would you like me to add a caption, Sir?" Jarvis asked, obviously amused.

"Yeah. Say something along the lines of 'look at this little cutie', because really, look at him, Jay, he's bound to be a heartbreaker."

"Preferably not like Sir once was, I assume?"

"Oh, god no. Steve would have a heart attack. I would probably have a heart attack. Let's not discuss my baby's non-existent sexual history, ever. Make a note about that."

"Of course Sir." 

Tony laid down next to the almost sleeping Peter, and lifted the little kid on top of him, enjoying the baby smell that was lingering in his shirt. Peter placed his head right above the arc reactor, and his little hand ended up on the arc reactor, squeezing the fabric of Tony's shirt. 

He smiled, and placed his hand gently on Peter's back, feeling the infant breathe in and out.

\---

"How are we looking?" Steve said into the com. 

"Sexy. But not like we're trying too hard," Clint replied. He jumped onto the next building with a grunt. "Like, sure, we're trying, but it's almost effortless."

"Hawkeye," Natasha snapped, but even though she was so far away and he couldn't even see her, he knew she was suppressing a smile.

"Aw, don't worry about me, Nat, you know I'm always smokin'."

"Three o'clock, Barton," Bucky said in the comm, and Clint pulled an arrow at the speed of lightning, shooting an electricity arrow at the blob thing coming at him.

It was really just a big blob that looked like the ominous orange glowing jell-o Tony had made a few months back, just in blue, and Steve was secretly praying that this wasn't Tony's creation. 

"Please dear fucking God, Tony tell me you haven't made a monster out of your jell-o?" Clint voiced over the comm. Tony was still at home, but he was listening from the tower. 

"What? No! This is blue! I don't do blue. Well yeah I do, when it's on Steve's delicious-"

"Gross!"

"-body, but I wouldn't make a huge blue jell-o monster. It has so many flaws. Doesn't even seem to have a brain."

"How about the green guy, he's not working on anything like this, is he?"

"Not sure. What do you say, Hulk dear?" Hulk just grumbled as he grabbed a hold on the thing, ripping the squishy jell-o apart. 

"Thor, fry it!" Steve called over the comm. A crack of lightning was heard, and Hulk was trying to eat the jell-o monster as Thor wildly swung his hammer. 

"Hey, should we get Bucky out of here? His arm is probably like a lightning rod for Thor's good stuff," Clint said into the comm.

"будьте осторожны!" Natasha called, and Bucky vaulted over a car, sliding over the hood and running around a corner. "He's clear, Thor, go!"

A lightningbolt crackled over the sky, and a bright flash blinded them all.

\---

"Miss Emma is attempting to reach you from her phone, Sir," Jarvis said, and startled Tony out of his daze. He grumbled but pressed the receive video call on his tablet where he was currently watching the team from an action camera as they plucked bits of jell-o off each other. 

The jell-o monster had exploded and had as a result covered the entire team and the block with blue jell-o, and Tony had to watch Steve thread blue jell-o out of Bucky's hair, and the touch looked, to his jealous eyes, highly sexual. Even though he trusted Steve and knew that Barnes was far from ready with dealing with people's touch like that, he didn't like it when Steve ran his hands through Bucky's hair.

"Hey, is Peter asleep?" Emma whispered. The screen was dark, but he could hear a ruffle of covers, and smiled quietly.

"Yeah. He's in his bedroom." Emma was quiet for a while.

"Do you think, uh... You could make me something?" she asked.

"Well that depends, is it impossible?" he asked.

"No," Emma said, confusion apparent.

"Too bad, I was feeling up for impossible," he sighed dramatically, and earned a giggle from Emma's side of the call. "What do you want me to make, kiddo?"

"A nightlight. Like your arc reactor," she said quietly. His heart melted.

"You scared of the dark?" he asked as he got out of bed, it was eleven p.m. after all, and he hadn't gotten hooked on a project or a bright idea since two a.m. It was a personal record, but Peter was doing things to his brain, making him more focused on his baby boy and the team, and Steve of course.

They still got to have lots of sex. Tony was happy about that.

"Yeah. A lot of monsters are rearing their ugly heads," she mumbled quietly. 

"I'll see what I can do. Jay, workshop?"

"Of course, Sir," Jarvis replied.

"Any special requests except for a huggable nightlight?" he asked. Emma was quiet for a few seconds.

"Can you make it in the shape of a giraffe?" she asked quietly.

"That your favorite animal?" he asked. He heard a ruffle of covers.

"Uh, not really... It's just- you could sleep with the giraffes because they wouldn't attack you. They wouldn't try to sit on you, or kill you. They were used to the commotion of lotsa more people. I'm like sixty percent sure one of them was blind," Emma said sleepily. Tony chuckled.

"I'll get back to you on that. Try to get some sleep," Tony said, and could hear Emma's muffled laughter.

"That's ironic coming from you, the man who, according to Clint, invented a drink with enough caffeine, sugar, and energydrinks to not kill you, but to keep you awake for 56 hours." He sighed wistfully.

"Steve nearly shat a brick," he chuckled as he walked into his workshop, hearing the doors slide shut with their signature hiss. 

"I can almost see his scowl when I close my eyes," she mumbled quietly. 

"You can dial me up if you can't sleep, but I'm going to set to work on your nightlight," he said quietly, and Emma merely hummed in response, dropping the call. 

\---

After lots of showers and shampoo, Natasha's hair was free from blue jell-o, although Clint's hair wasn't off the hook as easily. Even after three showers, his hair still glowed a faint-ish blue, and Emma was loving it.  

They got back really late, so Clint took a lazy morning, just actually getting out of bed at twelve, only to find Bucky and Natasha arguing in the couches in rapidfire Russian. He walked past them, only half listening.

" **-** **your fault**!" Natasha snapped.

" **Do you think I wanted to do it** **?** " Bucky hissed under his breath, his eyes flashing. Only Natasha would think it totally reasonable to pick a fight with an old, unstable, ex-Hydra agent who had a really bad episode only two days ago. 

" **We have a choice** **!** "

" **People like us never do, Natalia** **.** " That. Clint's face scrunched up, and he stopped his walk to the elevators. He didn't like the way Bucky said it.  _Natalia_. Natalia wasn't Natasha anymore.

He spun on his heel.

"Hey!" he called over to them. Bucky shot him an icy glare, and Natasha a blank look.

"What?" Bucky asked him, not emitting emotion.

"Don't fucking call her that."

"Clint-" Natasha began with a quiet sigh.

"No, it's not okay to call you that, because it's not you anymore," Clint pressed, really becoming agitated. "Natalia isn't you anymore. You're better. You've grown so fucking much. I'm not just gonna play the deaf card when he's saying 'Natalia' like it's a fucking curse."

There was a silence, and Bucky's eyebrows were just a smidge higher than normal.

" **He's very passionate about you**." Bucky said something, in _French_ , and Clint threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

" _Fucking_  polyglots," he groaned, and decided that he wasn't nearly caffeinated enough to deal with one French speaking Russian, let alone _two_.

" **Oh shut up.** " Natasha grumbled something in French too, and Clint was so done. Tasha could defend herself, and she was probably going to kick his ass later for even trying to stand up for her. 

"I'm too tired to deal with this," he declared and shrugged. "Go on. Keep fighting. Just don't break anything, I'm not up for a IKEA trip today." He padded downstairs, and Natasha's eyes flashed at Bucky.

" **I didn't have a choice back then. I do now. I didn't mess up my chance** ," she said, back to Russian now.

" **You went from one corrupt organisation to another. The only thing that changed was that you got a new weakness. A team to cover for. A special _someone_ -**" Bucky didn't even get to finish the sentence.

Natasha slapped him, hard, and that actually stung his cheek. He glared up at her, her gaze iron.

" **You're only showing me your exact weakness**."

"He isn't a weakness, he's a trusted friend that you have no right to put to shame," Natasha snapped, switching to English without a conscious thought.

"He's still a weakness."

"Emma is your weakness, and when those weaknesses are armed to the teeth, we're allowed to have weaknesses. This isn't the KGB. This is a safe place with people who wouldn't let you die. This is a place where you can expect smiles for no reason and leftover food and a bed that's soft, but not soft enough to not sleep on. This place, these people, aren't a weakness, they're a strength."

Natasha had lost her cool when she slapped Bucky, and she wasn't about to do it again, so she kept her face blank and her tone filled with anger. She also shouldn't be stealing Clint's speech he gave her when he convinced her to move in with the other Avengers with him, but it wasn't like he was around to gloat about it.

Bucky mulled over her words.

"So what, I'm just supposed to go to Shield? Become part of it all?" he asked, his voice low.

"No. You're going to watch shitty movies with my daughter, and you are going to train with Steve, and you're going to find places where you feel like you can go at 2 am in this stupid city when you feel like shit, and when you feel like you don't want to run every time someone looks at you wrong, you are going to find someone that isn't my thirteen year old child and you are going to talk. And when you find that person, you stay."

Bucky was silent again. Then he got up and left. Natasha closed her eyes.

Clint was a weakness. She  _knew_  it. He'd always been. He knew her too damn well, and he could make her tick in every single way possible, and she knew that. She knew what a big part of her life he was, and what a weakness he was. If Bucky was noticing exactly how much of a weakness he was, that meant she was slipping. She'd have to tense up a bit. 

Natasha gracefully flopped down on the couch with a sigh.

She really never should have let Clint Barton come so close.

\---

Bucky was obviously pissed today, so Emma followed him down to the gym and watched him and Clint sparr, whilst texting both Darcy and Wade.

_bucky is mad/sad 4 no reason_ , she texted Darcy. She replied quickly.

_Tell him that I'll call him later_  

"Hey Buck, Darcy's gonna call you later!" she called without looking up. She heard a grunt when Bucky got punched in the stomach, and looked up to see Clint pinning him down with his metallic arm underneath him to stop him from using it. 

"Sounds great," Bucky grit out, and with a sudden snap, twisted Clint over, slamming him down on the mat. 

_what u doin_  she texted Wade. He sent a quick reply that made her snicker, and she looked up at Clint and Bucky, both panting and sweating. Damn.

_watching Clint and Bucky spar_  

_Cop a feel for me ;)_

_ew no Clint is like my dad_

_how many times do I have remind you that I'm thirteen_

_Right... ;)_

Emma scoffed with a smile. Nat suddenly sat down next to her, offering her a cookie without taking her eyes off Clint and Bucky. She was pretty sweaty too, she'd been slapping around a punching bag and stretching in ways that shouldn't be physically possible. 

"Where'd you get this?" Emma asked in surprise as she took a bite. Natasha hummed.

"Clint leaves things all over the place," she said in a distracted manner. 

Emma took a picture of Bucky and Clint wrestling on the mats and sent it to Darcy, imagining the noise she would make. She grinned at the mere thought of it.

"See that swing?" Natasha said, and Emma looked over as Bucky swung for Clint's head, making Clint block, and twist.

"Yeah?"

"How do you punch?" Natasha asked. Emma held her knuckles up, forming a fist. "Good. Watch how Clint blocks." Emma nodded.

"Yeah?"

"How do you think he does that without it getting sloppy? He didn't leave any place unguarded." Emma observed for a little while.

"He's fast."

"So is his opponent." Emma was quiet for another few seconds.

"He's zoned in on exactly what Bucky is doing."

"He is. But how does he keep his defenses up whilst going on offence?" Emma tilted her head.

"The position of his feet."

"Right. Good." Emma beamed up at her. "You'll do good in school if you just focus." Emma beamed even brighter, however that was possible.

"You think?" Natasha nodded. 

"Yeah." 

"I'd hug you, but you're really sweaty, and I'm not all about that life," Emma said, and Natasha smirked. 

"I'm gonna take a shower," she declared. "And then we'll make spaghetti. Or just grab some takeout."

"Your turn to cook?" Emma guessed. Natasha nodded as she pushed herself off the ground.

"Sadly enough."

"I'm totally up for thai, by the way," Emma said as Clint and Bucky apparently decided to break up their sparring match. They both got off the mat, making their way over.

"I'm exhausted, I'm gonna take a shower and then I'm gonna crash on the couch," Clint declared.

"Thai or spaghetti tonight?" Natasha asked as they walked into the showers. 

"I'm feeling thai," he said thoughtfully, and she nodded. 

"Barnes?"

"Thai sounds good," he muttered. 

"Then it's settled."

\---

Emma got the huggable nightlight, as promised, in the shape of a giraffe. It was a cute giraffe, that could wake her up should she need it too. If she held it, it would feel her heartbeat, and if it got too quick, it would wake her up with either noise or movement. She was quite pleased, and gave Tony's cheek a kiss in thanks.

Secretly, Natasha was a little nicer to Tony because of it. He'd stabbed sore spots yesterday, and she wasn't all that happy with him, but anything to make Emma sleep better. 

Lucky seemed to notice Emma's distress, however, and decided that yes, it was fully reasonable to squeeze a full grown golden retriever, a 13 year old girl, a nightlight that was the size of Emma's torso, and three pillows into a twin size bed. Ah, yes. Fully understandable. 

Emma didn't mind though, she loved it. She cuddled both the nightlight and Lucky for three nights in a row before Clint woke up in the middle of the night, sobbing. Then Lucky had slept with Clint again. She had her nightlight. Clint didn't have anything. Neither did Natasha.

She kinda wondered why Natasha didn't have a nightlight.

Natasha didn't need a nightlight.   

And when she did, it was tall and blonde, and named Clint. Emma had five days left to make them get together, and she'd win the pool. Tony had already lost, so had Bruce, and Jane, now Emma just had to outlast Kate, Darcy, and Hill.

She did have a plan, but it was quickly foiled the next morning.

\---

The elevator doors slid open, and Nicholas Fury stepped into the kitchen of the Avengers Tower. The kitchen was a goddamned mess, with dishes everywhere, and flour, and... webs?

"PETER!" He heard the good captain call out, and walked into the living room.

Captain Rogers and Stark were chasing an infant across the roof with a ladder, whilst Thor braided the Winter Solider's hair into an asgardian braid, Barton was sitting on the floor next to the little girl they had rescued four and a half months ago playing Mario kart with loud cursing, and Romanoff was reading a book with her feet propped up on Barton's shoulders. Dr. Banner was sitting with a cup of tea in the couch next to all of them, just taking it all in. 

"Fuuuuuuuck!" Clint yelled as the kid blue-shelled him and sped past him, hollering as she did so. The Winter Solider's shoulders were shaking with silent laughter, and Thor stopped his braiding for a few seconds, smiling brightly as he did so.

"Agents," Fury called into the room, and in that exact moment, Stark got a hold of the infant on the roof, snatching him into his arms and immediately getting web in his face. 

"Got him!" he called, and Steve visibly relaxed as Natasha looked up from her book, regarding Fury with a cool face. Barton hadn't even heard him, he and the kid were laughing and mashing buttons, and suddenly the kid shoved him, making him topple over and drop his controller.

"Cheater!" Clint shouted, and scrambled to get his controller when Emma cackled manically, and the infant was handed down to Steve, who kissed the baby's head. 

"Fury," Banner regarded, and Natasha poked Clint's head with her toe as Emma won the race.

"She cheated!" Clint exclaimed. 

"She must get that from you," Stark snarked, and Clint gave him a murderous glare. 

"Clint," Natasha said, and he looked up at her, blinking his big blue eyes, soon refocusing them on Fury. 

"Uh-oh," he mumbled. "Bucky, take over for me?" Bucky grabbed the controller and Emma laughed as she reseated herself leaning on Bucky's legs.

The two agents followed Fury into the kitchen.

"I have a mission for you," he said.

"And since you didn't call us to Shield headquarters, I'm assuming its something that can't be discussed there?" Clint said, as they took a seat by the kitchen counter. "Like, under the table kinda stuff?"

"You are correct," Fury said, focusing his eye on Barton. "You got your security clearance back. As good aim as before." Clint internally winced, but nodded. Emma had been right, with Natasha there he passed all tests wonderfully. How ever the fuck that happened. "It's bad. A scientist squad stole a lot of Shield tech."

"What? It's a retrieval? That's Level One!" Clint said.

"You really think I'd drag my ass over here if it was a Level One mission? Damn straight, I wouldn't! Now pack your bags. You leave tonight."

\---


	35. Truth or Truth

 

Since Natasha and Clint were essentially still Shield 'assets', Fury could swoop in at any given time, and steal them away for months if he wanted to. Tony found that ridiculous. 

"Come on, you're both going?" Tony said as Emma wrapped her arms tightly around herself, hunching her shoulders.

"It's orders, Stark," Clint said with a sigh.

"So? Tell the one eyed pirate no!"

"Tony," Steve chided.  

"That vein in his forehead will pop if we do that," Clint said and Natasha gave Emma a little frown. 

"Keep an eye on Emma for us?" Natasha asked, and that made Emma's lips quirk a little.

"Yeah, if she has as much as a scratch when we come back, we'll flip shit, alright?" Clint said and held his arms out to her in a hug. Emma was grinning when she hugged him tightly. She disliked the feel of hugging his vest, but he gave the top of her head a loud kiss, which made her grin wider. 

Natasha gave the amazing Iron Man and incredible Captain America her best murder glare, and both men backed a step.

"Don't doubt it," Natasha said as she hugged Emma too, in her catsuit already. "Try to sleep, okay? Bucky can stay on our floor if he wants too." Emma nodded, smiling. 

"Okay. He probably will." Natasha pushed the hair out of Emma's eyes, and nodded.

"Have a safe mission," Steve called as they got into the elevator. When the doors closed, Clint let out the sigh he had been holding back.

It was going to be a boring mission.

\---

Clint was proven wrong, and was laughing his ass off in his head as he shot down another three goons with his acid arrow two days later, hitting them all and making them topple to the ground, screaming.

"Clear," he called over to Natasha, and she nodded as he turned to watch her back when her searching eyes found the panel she was looking for. 

She approached it quickly, checking for threats around her. She was in full Widow mode as she pulled out the flashdrive she had in one of her pouches, and quickly pushed it into the computer. 

Clint had her back, firing a few arrows at coming goons, but they stopped coming pretty quickly. Natasha's eyes swept over chemical formulas, things she only knew because of Bruce talking about serums.

She was just about to delete the whole thing so that the only copy was on her flashdrive, when everything happened very quickly.

A scientist hopped out from behind the computers, and stabbed her hand with a syringe. It took Natasha a fraction of a second too long to react, and she snapped her hand out of reach only when the absolutely batshit crazy scientist had pressed some of the liquid in the syringe into her bloodstream. 

That was as far as he got before he had an arrow sticking out of his chest, and his grip slackened. He fell over, slumping over the panel.

Cursing under her breath, Natasha tugged the syringe out.

"Black Widow is hit with something," Clint called in, with a finger to his earpiece. 

"It's probably what they were testing," Coulson supplied.

"Which was?" Natasha pressed, her heartbeat picking up as she stuffed the syringe in her pouch. 

"A truth serum."

She pulled the flashdrive out with unnecessary force.

"You're fucking with me," Clint said, his voice exasperated. 

"Sadly not, Agent Barton. We didn't think you would come in contact with the drug itself."

"It's a drug?!"

"It makes you tell the truth, it's basically a way of creating whistle blowers. We hadn't gotten the chance to actually turn it into a chemical when the formula was stolen. Get back to base as soon as possible so that we can analyze the effects," Coulson said.

Natasha ground her teeth.

"Yes Sir," she replied. Clint gave her an assessing look.

"Tell me when you think you'll pass out," he said. Nat gave him a look.

"If I start feeling bad, I'll tell you," she said. Clint nodded, and turned, trusting Natasha to alert him. 

They made it out, quick and easy, and were shuffled into medical, both checked over. Clint had some scrapes and cuts, but Natasha was a whole other thing entirely. They took a blood test and examined her reflexes and asked her a lot of strange questions until she was shuffled into a room with Coulson.

"Are you experiencing the effects yet?" Coulson asked.

"I feel compelled to tell the truth. How am I supposed to feel?"

"Like you're compelled to tell the truth." Natasha said nothing. "Do you remember all of your targets' names?"

"N-yes." Natasha bit her tongue, closed her eyes. "Don't ask me those kinds of questions."

"Of course. What is Hawkeye's real name?" She couldn't fight it this time.

"Clinton Francis Barton." Natasha's face scrunched up in frustration. "I didn't mean to say that." Coulson looked fascinated.

"So it works," he murmured. Clint came into the room, leaning against the wall behind Coulson.

"Yes," Natasha grit out.

"What was your first target's name?"

"Andrei Valevach," Natasha replied, and instantly slapped a hand to her mouth. "Stop."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen." She clenched her fists. "Stop!"

"You were fourteen when you killed your first human being?" Clint said, distraught.

"No, I was ten," she replied, and instantly closed her eyes, her jaw clenched so tight it looked almost like it would break any second. " _Clint_."

The way she said his name, the way that it sounded like a reprimand as well as a plea, gave him flashbacks to bad missions, when things got too bad, and her voice cracked as she spoke and all he wanted to do was slaughter anybody who had ever brought harm her way. 

And now that person was Coulson.

"Alright, that's enough," Clint said, his voice sharp. Coulson looked confused. 

"But we're not nearly done yet!"

"Yeah, well, sorry Sir, but I'm not gonna sit idly by-"

"Clint," Natasha said, and now it was just a reprimand. "I can handle an interrogation. I've had far worse."

"Well this isn't the kind of interrogation that you just get thrown in the hospital or grave for, Nat," he said, and she sighed.

"Right now I'm very unreliable. I'll tell the truth to anyone who will listen. They have all right to punish me for being stupid enough to get injected with this... thing, in the first place. I could accidentally cause a security breach because of this drug."

"Then we'll go home and wait it out, without any people asking pokey questions. Come on. Let's go," Clint said, and made a motion for her to come with him.

"We'll give you a full report and update on this tomorrow," Natasha said as she stood up. "I'll stay away from... Well, Stark, and try not to reveal any valuable information." Coulson stood up too, considering his two agents for a moment. 

Then he nodded. 

"Of course. I'll expect no less. I'm sorry for having... Asked too personal questions, Agent Romanoff, I-"

"Don't bother, Phil," she said, and gave him a small smile. He nodded.

"Go get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning," he said. The agents nodded, and walked out of Shield medical, and Coulson watched them go. 

Agent Maria Hill walked up beside him, and sighed as she watched them go.

"You lost. It's not happening today," she supplied. Coulson smiled.

"We'll see."

\---

"I hate this so fucking much," Natasha growled as she stomped into their living room. 

"Oh, come on Nat, it can't be that bad," Clint said as he followed her, trying to suppress his grin. Emma was sitting in the couch, all curled up like a cat, with her Starktab in her hands, and eating an apple.

"Hey! You're alive!" she smiled. She frowned when she saw Natasha's death face on. "Oh god. What happened?"

"Some scientist injected a truth serum in her blood stream," Clint said, a nervous smile on his face. "And, uh, Tasha isn't taking it so well." Natasha stomped over to her bedroom, and wanted to slam the door, but stopped herself, and closed it quietly. A few seconds later, they could her the telltale thump of Natasha's fist connecting with the wall. 

"Well, uh... How long is it going to last?" Emma asked carefully.

"Three hours probably, she didn't get too much of it into her blood," Clint said, and now he was grinning. "She already complimented Stark on his genius, and said how hot Steve's ass looks in his uniform. Tony's never going to shut up about it."

Emma hummed. 

"I'll be right back," she said, and tip toed over to the door. Knocked carefully.

"What?! Barton, I swear to god-"

"It's not Clint," Emma interrupted. The lock on the door opened, and Emma carefully slid inside Natasha's room. In the light, it was plain, white walls, practical things only, a bookshelf and a queen size bed. Natasha was sitting on said bed, scowling. "Hi Natasha."

"Hi," she said, biting her lip. Emma took a deep breath.

"What do you really think of my hair?" she asked. Before Natasha could react, her mouth was open, and she was talking. 

"It's pretty, and it fits you well, it's the way it came to be that short that I don't appreciate." She slapped a hand to her mouth, and growled. "Put a muzzle on me," she groaned. 

"Whoa. Okay, I'm going to ask you a weird question, because I am so fucking curious." Natasha's eyes narrowed. "What are your feelings about Clint?" Natasha's eye twitched, and she kept her hand clamped to her mouth, tried to fight it off, but suddenly her hand dropped, and she just looked tired. 

"He's my best friend. He's my partner. And I'm very attracted to him, and it's killing me." 

"Why don't you want to be in a relationship with him?"

"I don't do relationships. He doesn't either."

"So it would be a first?" Natasha's eyes narrowed. "'Cause isn't a lot of things with him like, your first?" She didn't say anything, and Emma shrugged. "Just a thought. What do you really think about kids?"

"I don't know what to do with them. I like that about you, you and I share some interests and you talk a lot, so I don't have to." Natasha frowned. "Fuck. Clint! Get in here and put a muzzle on me!"

\---

"Alrighty, three hours are up. Ready to take the muzzle off, Nat?" Clint asked. Nat ripped it off, massaged the hinges of her jaw. 

"Fuck, what a burn," she muttered. "Okay, test me." Clint grinned. They were sitting in their couch, on their floor, and Emma was downstairs with Thor and Steve watching the new Disney movie. They were alone. 

"Okay. Is Steve really that hot?" he asked. Natasha scowled. 

"Yes. Next question."

"Really? Hm. How about Tony, is he really that smart?"

"You know he is. I would never admit it though, especially not with his big ego around," she said, and Clint laughed. 

"You did. He's going to bask in that forever." She grumbled. 

"I know."

"Okay, next question. Have you ever lied?"

"Yes."

"How many people have you ever slept with?"

"Ten, I think." He gaped in silence. 

"No fucking way. The world famous _seductress_ the Black Widow has only slept with ten people?" Clint asked. 

"Part of being a good seductress is not having to sleep with your target to get what you want," she shrugged. He shook his head.

"Wow. Mindblown. Uh, okay, try lying. Did you take the last bagel?"

"No," she said.

"Liar. Great, it's worn off!" Natasha smiled, and shook her head.

"I didn't take the last bagel, Clint," she said, sighed. 

"Okay, fine, then I still have to find out who that was. Uh... Let's take something that would make me know when you're lying. Hm." And Clint took a risk. "Do you want me to kiss you? 

Natasha's breath hitched. And then she lied. 

"No."

"I'm picking up a slight pulse change in Agent Romanoff's system," Jarvis said helpfully, and Clint's jaw dropped a little. Natasha swallowed, her eyes flicking over Clint's features, taking in the shock, the confusion... But no disgust. No indication that he hated her.

"So... You want me to kiss you?" Clint asked slowly, his blue eyes widening. 

Natasha didn't bother answering him, she just grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss, because Emma's words were circling in her mind. 

Clint Barton was the person in this world who knew her the best. He had seen her angry, happy, hurt, he had even seen her cry. Not many got to live after that. He had been the first person she had ever truly trusted, he had been the first person to make her feel like she was something more than a killing machine. He was her partner, he had her back. 

They had kissed before, on missions, as covers. But that hadn't been Natasha and Clint kissing, and now it was the real them, the unguarded ones, and it was better than ever. Now she relaxed into it, letting him melt down the walls she had up every day, every facade he had learned to identify and now to tear down. She let herself be Natasha in all her glory, and he basked in the moment. 

The kiss was soft, and Natasha's lips were as sweet-tasting as Clint remembered them. His hands went to cup her face, and her hand was in his blond tousle of hair, bringing him impossibly closer. Then it got better.

Mouths opened, tongues began to wrestle, and Clint's head was swimming, because Natasha was  _kissing_  him. 

"Tasha," he whispered when she pulled away with glazed eyes, and slightly flushed cheeks. He kissed her again, quicker, more heated, and Natasha couldn't help the small moan that left her lips. And she wanted more.

Her hands slid down his abdomen, and Clint suddenly had one clear thought.

He shouldn't be rushing this. But he wanted to. He _really_ really wanted to, desperately.

"Wait, Nat," he breathed inbetween kisses, and she pulled away, hands under the hem of his t-shirt. 

"What?" she asked, sounded uncertain. Look at that. Clint made her uncertain. He felt like an ass just for that.  

"You're not going to kill me if we have sex, right?" he asked, clearing the heavy air with a joke. Natasha laughed. 

"No. But I might kill you if we don't." 

"I hate to be the responsible one in this situation, I really do, but I... I don't just want a quick fuck. And if you do, I'm totally down for that, but-"

"Clint," Natasha interrupted. "I don't just want a quick fuck." They stared at each other for a little while in silence, processing the new information. Clint's blue eyes were almost black, his pupils were lustblown and his breathing was slightly off as his thumb stroked her cheek.

"Oh," he mumbled, his head now completely fogged by the fact that Natasha wanted  _more_ , and then she was on him again, pushing him down on the couch and straddling him. He was going to enjoy this to the fullest, so his hands slid over her thighs, hips, ass, and she was devouring his mouth as her hands tugged at his biceps, his shoulders, his neck. 

"Mmm, Clint," she whispered as he grabbed a firm hold under her legs, sitting up and standing up with only a minor hiccup. Natasha went on to his jaw, to his collar bone, and shivered when he let out a moan. He started walking to her bedroom.

"Not on the couch?" she murmured, sucked a hickey into his skin.

"We've got a kid, we're not going to scar her more than she already is scarred," he muttered, closed the door with his foot. Natasha was kissing his jaw in the most intoxicating way, and he laid her down on the bed, gripping the hem of her sweatpants and tugging them down her toned assassin legs. 

Natasha kissed him again as she pulled his pants down, and Clint reluctantly pulled back enough to throw his shirt off, giving Natasha enough time and concentration to do the same. And Clint had to stop for a second and enjoy the view.

Her eyes were glossed over, her lips red from biting and sucking and kissing, and her pale skin looked like porcelain in the dim glow of the New York City lights shining in through the window. Her panties were black, and her bra was light blue, as to not give itself away from underneath one of her white shirts. 

She looked absolutely _mesmerizing_. 

"Oh, God, Tasha..." he mumbled, and with a desperate whine she hated herself for making, she grabbed ahold of his shoulders, tugging him down on the bed. Their lips met in a warm embrace, and Clint shivered as he felt Natasha's fingers ghost over his back, going down to the hem of his boxers. 

It didn't feel real, but it _was_ , and then she began peeling his boxers off, and he unhooked her bra, throwing it to the floor. Natasha thought she was dreaming when Clint kissed his way down her torso, nibbling on her nipples and her flesh. He kissed her belly button, and she threw her head back with a moan. 

Slowly he kissed the insides of her thighs, softly biting into her flesh as he went, and she gasped as Clint touched her with his hands and his lips, and she bit down on her lip when he finally stopped teasing, and gave her clit a good suck.

Natasha moaned, but it was Clint motive to make her scream, and not in a bad way. He'd accidentally done that so many times before, he wasn't about to do that again.

He worked her until he deemed her wet and ready, her legs were shaking by then, and then he let go of her squirming hips, letting her crawl back on the bed. Clint was achingly hard, he was honestly proud of himself for not blowing his load just from the sounds she was making, and he slowly discarded his underwear, watching her take in the sight of him in all his glory. 

"Clint..." she breathed, and her throat went dry when he crawled onto the bed again, pulling her socks off as he kissed his way up her body, capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. God, she was finally getting what she had wanted for so long; she was getting  _Clint_.

And fuck if that didn't feel goddamned fantastic.

"Wait," Clint suddenly said, his voice husky as he pulled away, leaning up. "Condom."

"Don't need one, please, just..." Natasha wasn't even sure what she was pleading for.

When he slid into her, a gasp left her throat that she hadn't planned on. Natasha had much sexual experience, from fucking targets and such, but she had never really had sex with a guy she generally... Wanted. Not like she wanted Clint. All of the sex feelings were there, yes, the lust, the need, the feeling that she might go crazy if she didn't get off soon. But now she felt something warm in her chest she really didn't want to label, in fear of what it might be.

Clint moaned as he started thrusting into her slowly at first, with her arms wrapped snugly around his waist, and he realized he was completely lost in her. Kate had been right. Emma had been right. Everyone had been right. He was so fucking lost for her.

"Tasha...", he groaned, and she just ground her hips in time with his thrusts, meeting him at every turn. She made a muffled gasp that sounded a little bit like 'Clint', and he got her to cry out in pleasure with an especially sharp thrust before she was rolling him over on his back, and riding him in a way that should be illegal.

Or, like, the most legal thing ever. He was the worst at making comparisons when the most beautiful woman in the world was riding him.

Natasha rolled her hips and felt pleasure run through her in white ragged flashes that went from her hips to the top of her head and the tip of her toes. 

"God, Clint, I'm g-going to-" she gasped. 

"Fuck... Yeah, me too, Tash. Cum with me," he grit out as he kept pushing into her, until she came, her entire body shaking and she let out the loudest,  _fucking hottest_ moan he had ever heard, which made him cum too.

Natasha felt Clint's whole body tense, and then relax as he thrust into her a few more times before she collapsed on top of him, her energy spent.

They lay there, panting, until Natasha composed herself enough to roll off of Clint, and find her underwear on the bed.

"That was...So good," Clint decided, still breathless, and Natasha laughed when she threw his boxer briefs at him, and crawled under the covers.

"It was," Natasha agreed. Pretty quickly, Clint joined her, and he snuggled into Natasha's back, pulling her against him but with enough room so that she could break free from the spooning and change her mind. He wouldn't be entirely shocked if she did.

But Natasha entangled their hands, and let him hold her. It felt nice, to have all of her soft skin pressed against his.

"Tired?" he asked into her hair. It smelled vaguely of gunpowder and flowers and that nice perfume she used sometimes, he couldn't really remember the name of it right now when his whole body was still tingling, and he was very almost naked and Natasha was in an equal state of undress. 

"Yeah," Natasha replied and ran her fingers gingerly over his calloused hands. "Talk tomorrow?"

"Please, yes, serious talk in the morning," Clint murmured sleepily, as the exhaustion from the mission was catching up to him. Natasha couldn't help the quiet laugh that broke from her throat, and Clint laughed too, nuzzling his face into her red curls.

And they were happy. For once, the two who once had nothing, now had it all. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for smut! And actual Clintasha! Holy shit did that make me happy to finally write. I was gonna post this tomorrow, but you guys were being the sweetest and u made me sappy, so this is for all you lovelies who have read all the way here!  
> <33


	36. Pillow Talk And Future Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm incapable of writing like good angst, so fLUFF

 

Emma knocked on Clint's door.

"Clint!" How could he want to skip Steve's cooking breakfast day? What was wrong with him? He hadn't gotten drunk, and he was usually restless enough to not take many long mornings.

She opened the door slowly. 

"Clint?" When Emma found Clint's bed empty, she raised an eyebrow. Maybe Natasha knew where he was. Jarvis had said he was on their floor.

She hopped over to Natasha's door.

"Nat? Have you seen Clint?" she called through the door. No answer. "Nat!"

The door opened and Clint got out, putting a finger to his lips before he closed it. Emma gave him a onceover, he was wearing black boxers and the same shirt as yesterday, and Emma raised her eyebrow at him.

"What, what?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, but he had a quiet smile tugging at his lips. She took in his disheveled look, and the hickey forming on his left clavicle, his hair standing in all directions, a purple bruise on his leg from the mi-Hickey?!

"You two hooked up!" Emma suddenly exclaimed, and slapped a hand to her mouth in shock. Clint immediately shushed her again, grimacing.

"Don't yell," he said quietly, and shuffled her over to the livingroom. "And yes. Yes, we did. How the hell did you know?"

"The hickey, but oh my god, wow!" Emma hiss-whispered, grinning. "Yes!" She fistpumped the air. "Tony owes me so much money! I'm going to be so filthy rich!"

"Seriously Em? I expected this from Tony, Hill, even Bruce, but _you_? My own daughter?"

"You bet, like, all the time. Don't be a hypocrite, Clint. Like three days ago you bet Tony that you would survive jumping from the fifth floor onto the ground."

He was silent for a while.

"That is not how to talk to your father, young lady," he said in a mocking authoritative voice, and Emma laughed, and he laughed with her. He was just so happy. Nothing could spoil his good mood. "Alright, well, how big is your winning window?"

"You have four more days to let me win and not Tony or Hill or Bruce or Thor or Jane or Darcy," Emma said. "Oh, wait! Kate too. She has like, the next week after me, so ya know."

"Seriously?"

"What? We've all seen how close you are," Emma said with an eyeroll. Then she gave him a suspicious look. "This wasn't just a one night stand? _Please_ tell me this wasn't a one night stand, you're my parents!"

"I'm... I'm pretty sure it wasn't," Clint said, and now he looked a little unsure.

"Why are you here then? Geeze!" Emma said and pushed him towards Natasha's door with her surprising strength.

"You called me out here! You think I wanted to move?"

"Go!" Emma hiss-whispered as she pushed him inside, closing the door quietly.

Clint turned and was then frozen on the spot, with two ceiling turrets pointed at him.

"Uh... Tash?" he said loudly, and Natasha blinked her eyes open, sitting up.

"Jarvis, stand down," she said with a laugh of surprise. "Let's not shoot Clint, alright? He can come in while I'm sleeping."

The ceiling turrets retracted, and he relaxed again, grinning as he walked back to the bed. Natasha lifted the covers for him, and he crawled in underneath them, hugging her close as she let the sheet drop back down. 

"I'm flattered. Also, since when do you have ceiling turrets?" he mumbled as he gave her forehead a gentle kiss. She laughed into his chest, and it was the loveliest sound he'd ever heard. 

"Since Tony thought it would make me sleep better," she mumbled as her hand wandered over Clint's bicep, resting in the crook of his arm.

"Has it made it easier?"

"A little," Natasha admitted. "They activate when someone comes in when I'm sleeping. It's comforting." She was silent for a little while. "But that's not what you wanted to talk about."

"Well, yeah, I _do_ love to know why you have ceiling turrets," he mumbled. "But there's also... Last night we should talk about."

"Ugh. Talking sucks. I don't talk, it makes things complicated."

"Yeah, I know Nat, I've known you for years. But this is us we're talking about."

"We'll just fuck things up," she rolled out of his arms, needing some space to think without being pressed to his goddamn gorgeous front and held close by his chiseled arms. 

"Did you mean what you said yesterday?" Clint asked quietly as he also rolled over on his back, tucking his arms underneath the warmth of her covers.

"About what?" Natasha asked, and looked at him. He wasn't meeting her eyes, just looking up into the ceiling. 

"About wanting more." She mulled over how she was going to voice this.

"Yes. I did mean that. I still do," she said quietly, unsure if she wanted to share the worries clawing at her chest. But this was _Clint._  "But what if it doesn't work out?"

"You already live with me. You know all of my shitty habits that are going to kill me, I know all of yours. What can go wrong?"  _I've also wanted you forever, but you never knew._

Since Emma came back and they all shared a bed for the night, he'd been fucked six ways from Sunday, and he knew it. The fluttering in his stomach had gotten worse every time he saw Natasha, and he'd wanted to reach out, take her hand, kiss her, make her notice. But hey, he wasn't cool with dubious consent, so he'd reeled himself in every fucking time, and it tore at him. 

Here he was, in bed with the most gorgeous woman on earth, and she was seriously considering being in a  _relationship_  with him!

She bit her lip in thought.

"I'm not going to call you my boyfriend," Natasha said suddenly, and Clint's heart fluttered a little, because that was a yes, and great, he was becoming a nervous teenager again, his palms getting sweaty as his eyes met hers, her features unnaturally relaxed as she smiled almost sleepily at him.

He knew how fast Natasha could wake up and clear her head enough to jump straight into battle, it was how she was trained to be, but he still loved seeing a sleepy Natasha that was half naked and so very warm.

"I can live with that," he mumbled, and found her hand on the bed, his fingers merely brushing hers before she was lacing their fingers together. They both inched into the middle of the bed, finally kissing again, and Clint's head was spinning again, the really happy kind of spinning.

"Jarvis?" Natasha spoke up as Clint finally let go of her lips, rolling her over on her back and sucking his way down her neck. "Has Emma gone?"

"Miss Emma has retreated back downstairs, Agent Romanoff."

"Thanks."

"Oh yeah, by the by, we have to out this in four days or Kate's going to win a lot of money," he murmured against her neck. Natasha chortled quietly, her chilled hands running over his back. "By telling them in four days, we're winning Emma a lot of money."

Natasha laughed out loud that time, and flipped Clint over on his back, momentarily dazing him as she sat up to straddle his hips. She was just really beautiful, her soul was goddamned beautiful, and he felt like a dude in a chick-flick, but fuck that, because Tasha was so much better than any girl in any chick-flick and _wow,_ he was really fucked.

_So, so_ epically fucked.

"Alright," Natasha murmured as she bent down and kissed him. Clint cradled her jaw and the kiss became slow and lazy, and for Natasha it was new but it was good, and as her eyes closed along with Clint's, she thought that she could do this.

\---

They never really told the team. Four days later, Natasha just exited from the elevator on the common floor, with purple boxers and a white t-shirt too big for her, with a purple target, and nodded a good morning before heading over to the tea pot. Everybody watched in stunned silence.

Natasha's hair was also in disarray, both from sleep and from what looked like grabby hands, and it was very unlikely that she would even be out of her room without pants on. She had basically shell shocked the entire room.

"Is that... Is... Oh Frightful Man-Eating Spider, is that Barton's shirt?" Tony asked as Natasha poured herself some hot water. 

"Yes it is," she noted as she began looking through the selected tea assortment. 

"Did you kill him and steal his favorite shirt?"

"No, I did not." 

The shocked silence that met her words was deafening.

Clint came down with the elevator like a normal person this morning, a small smile on his face. He was wearing a black shirt and sweats, and as he walked by Natasha to the fridge, only Bucky who was next to Emma by the counter noticed when his hand brushed by the small of her back, and Natasha turned around, waiting for the tea to cool. 

"So... Am I the only one that feels like we need to soundproof their walls now?" Tony asked, and Steve nudged for him to shut up when Natasha turned her head back and a gave an uncharacteristically smug smile.

"With the things I'm planning to do with him, you might want to do that, like now," she said, her voice even and calm. Clint nearly choked on his tongue, and made a noise that made Natasha smile at him.

"I'm going to throw up, but I'm happy for you guys," Emma said without even looking up from her tablet, waving at them. Natasha smiled, whoa, Clint thought, she did that a lot today.

"Thank you, Emma," Natasha said, and Clint actually dared to wrap his arm around her waist from behind. She wasn't very prone to PDA, that he knew, but she let him hold her. And that just made heat pool in his stomach, and he felt like a huge sap, but Nat was really the best thing that had happened to him. Ever. If he could go back in time and high-five the past Clint who hadn't killed his target off, he would.

Bruce sighed.

"Well, I owe Agent Hill fifty bucks," he muttered, but he didn't seem very bummed about it, if his smile said anything. Emma held her hand out, and Tony sighed, but smacked a wad of cash into it.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Tony," she said happily, and started counting her money.

"Why am I not even surprised," Natasha murmured, and Clint gave her hip a slight squeeze before getting over to the coffee machine again.

"Because she's a lot like Barton in that sense," Bucky offered, and Clint shrugged with a grin.

"What can I say? I like a little bit of chance in my life, a little bit of risk," he said, with a spark in his eyes that made Natasha's kne's a little weaker. Oh shit.

Clint was somehow rocking the boat that was her self control, and she gave him a look, a look that made him freeze up for just a second before swallowing hard and turning back around.

"How about we have breakfast in bed?" Natasha suggested, and he nodded quickly.

"Uh, yeah, let's-let's totally do that," he said.

"любовь птицы," Bucky muttered.  **Lovebirds**.

"Hey, remind me, what's Darcy's favorite movie again?" Natasha said, and shot him a look. Bucky huffed, and only Emma noticed how the tips of his ears turned just a little redder.

"Touché."

 Natasha nodded, and grabbed her tea and a toast before she and Clint hurried into the elevator.

"Congrats, your parents are together," Bruce said, and Emma grinned as she used the money in her hand as a fan, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Pay up. The lot of you."

\---

When Emma was thoroughly richer, she decided to treat Bucky for an ice cream. They took one of Steve's bikes, that Bucky now actually got to drive, under very strict guidelines and rules.

Steve's strict rule number one: Helmets. Emma thought he was being a hypocrite, but she snagged Clint's helmet anyways, since it was unused and was purple. Emma tutted at his bad safety skills.

Steve's strict rule numero dos: Stay away from paparazzi, but safely. No speeding off into alleys. Bucky shrugged that off, he wasn't well known at all. Neither was Emma. Few were bound to come after them.

Steve's strict, and final, rule numéro thre: No accidentally killing people off. Emma had been doing breathing excercises with Bruce to control her powers, and Bucky was only allowed three knives on his person and a handgun when they went outside. Natasha usually carried the same amount of guns when out, even in small dresses. No one ever understood how the hell she got that exploding gel into her pumps once, though. It had saved them all in the end.

So, after Steve had made them repeat the rules back at him three times, they hopped on the bike and got out of there.

Bucky drove around the city, enjoying the feeling of air pressing against him as he pushed the bike's speed up a little more. Emma was in front of him, she was pretty tiny really, so he could fit her there easily. He'd been a little scared she'd just fly right off otherwise. 

He could hear Emma's squeal of delight as they went just a little faster, and he smiled underneath his helmet. She was making him go soft, the damn gal.

Suddenly Emma pointed left, and he obeyed, turned the bike to the left.

When they finally stopped for ice cream, it was on a gas station on the outskirts of NYC. Bucky was fueling up the bike as Emma licked her ice cream, sighing happily. 

"You know, soon we won't get to do this," she pointed out as he sat down on the bike next to her, taking his own ice cream cone. Emma's was strawberry and Bucky's was chocolate. 

"'Cause of school?" he asked. Emma nodded as they watched the cars speed by.

"Mhm. We'll also not be able to have as many movie nights, because I'll be busy with school, n' stuff." He nodded silently. They just sat there in comfortable silence for a while, until Bucky cleared his throat.

"Is flowers still.... Something that you give to people?" he asked carefully, and Emma nodded, taking another lick at her ice cream cone, internally smiling.

"Uh huh. There's this neat thing on the internet that lets you send flowers to people. You want to send some to Darcy?" He nodded a little, and bit his lip. She loved how relaxed he'd become with Darcy. And he was getting caught up on slang and internet and he was learning to text with one hand. He was getting so much better. "You could talk to Jane and ask her to get some flowers for Darcy, or help with getting them there," she suggested. 

Bucky frowned a little.

"I want to give them to her."

"Hm. Well, I don't think Tony would mind flying you to New Mexico. It would be really cute. You should still tell Jane that you're coming so that they're not doing something super duper important," she pointed out. 

"You think I should fly over to Darcy?" he said, with a look of confusion and surprise.

"Oh yeah! It'd be so romantic. You guys talk a lot, like through Jarvis, right?" He nodded. "And you guys were super cute when we had marathons. You both looked really happy. This is the kind of happy that could make life worth living."

"Worth staying," he said quietly, finishing his cone. His metal fingers tapped on the seat, and Emma saw how he kind of turned brooding, thinking. "How many days 'till you start school, doll?"

Emma hummed. 

"Four."

"So... I'm supposed to go there, give her flowers and go back?"

"Not for like one day, that would be bad. You should stay a few days. Say, five," Emma said, wiggling her eyebrows. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

"Then I won't be here when you start school," he pointed out, and Emma waved him off.

"Go be with your girlfriend. I'll manage. I have Nat and Clint, and I can call Darcy any time and be like 'hey put Bucky on the phone for me?' and she'll hand it over and we can talk. It'll be fine. I'll tell you all about my first day over the phone," she said with a smile.

"You sure?"

"100 percent!" He gave the top of her head a little kiss, just like he'd seen Steve do to Peter and Tony so many times. Emma grinned at him, and promptly swiped her ice cream over his nose. "Not so scary now, are ya!"

He grabbed her ice cream cone and ate it, and she laughed as he smiled at her tentatively.

\---


	37. Travels And Babysitting

 

"You-whoa! Seriously?" Tony said, looking baffled.

"Yes," Bucky said, his face a blank mask.

"Wow. Uh, sure. Totally. Why not? Take the quinjet," he said with an unconcerned shrug. Emma squealed.

"Yes! Thank you Tony!" she said and grabbed Bucky's hand, dragged him out of there. "Now call Jane." She pushed her phone into his hand, and he frowned at it a little, thought back to when Stark picked his arm apart. She'd been calm and nice, albeit a little excited. Yeah. He could talk to her.

It took three long hums, but then he heard a click and someone picked up.

"Emma? What's the matter?" came Jane's worried tone over the phone.

"It's Bucky. Don't say my name," he said, because he could just sense that Jane was going to say it out loud. If he was going to surprise Darcy, then he was going to do it properly.

"Oh. Is everything alright?" Jane asked, her voice quieter.

"Yes. Is Darcy with you?"

"Uh, no, but I could go get her?" Jane suggested, sounding very confused.

"No, I uh... I needed to talk to you," he said, looking at Emma, who was smiling supportively at him. "I need your help."

"With what?" Jane asked curiously, and he could hear something clanging in the background. "Hang on a second." There was a rustling, and Jane yelled "Darcy! Could you make sure Ian is still alive? Thank you!" More rustling. "Sorry, the air conditioner broke a few days back, and we're all sweating to death over here. Ian has passed out twice already."

"Sounds like you have a lot going on."

"Not really, we got a few readings a few days back, and we're still analyzing the data," she said thoughtfully. "Now, tell me. What do you want me to help you with?"

"I want to surprise Darcy," Bucky said, and Emma took his free hand, playing with the metal folds as she dragged him over to the elevator.

They had some planning to do.

\---

Jane thought it was one of the best ideas ever for Bucky to come over. Darcy had been getting kind of tired of everyone, and she was apparently pretty bored now that she couldn't do much but keep Jane alive. And boy wasn't that hard enough on her.

Emma packed a suitcase for Bucky, one with normal clothes.

He insisted on bringing at least three of his guns and two extra clips, along with an assortment of ten knives. Emma managed to bargain it down to two guns, still with two clips each, and six knives. She snuck a tablet into his baggage too, just for emergencies.

"Their air conditioner is broken," he supplied as Emma stuffed a long sleeved shirt into his bag.

"You're going to go on a date. With people around," she pointed out as she chucked a blazer into his bag too.

"The arm," he understood, staring down on his metallic arm. "You still think it's pretty?" Emma grinned at him over her shoulder.

"Hell yeah, I do. It would be prettier if you'd let me add glitter to it, however-"

"Not gonna happen, Em," he said, shaking his head with a small smile. Then he turned thoughtful. "...Will Darcy-"

"No, you idiot, she doesn't mind your arm," Emma interrupted him, snorting. "She thinks it's cool." She stuffed a few hair ties into the bag too. Bucky should get some scrunchies. "She thinks you look really hot with your hair up." Bucky smirked.

"And what about you, doll?"

"I don't look very hot with my hair up, in fact, I don't have the muscles to make up the hotness that you got going for ya," she said, waving in his general direction as she grabbed a leather jacket off the floor and threw it at him. "Now go and surprise your girlfriend!"

She followed him to the quinjet, along with Steve and Peter, who was currently attached to Steve's torso, looking at Bucky with a pacifier in his mouth, with a Captain America Shield on it, of course.

"This sounds like a great idea, Buck. It'll be good for you to get out of the tower a little," Steve said, smiling. Bucky shrugged.

"Haven't seen her in a while," he muttered.

"Video calls aren't really the same thing as the real deal," Steve admitted. Bucky nodded, giving Peter a suspicious look.

"Don't get your pops into trouble," he said to Peter, who tucked himself into Steve's broad chest. Steve grinned, and took Peter's small hand, waving at Bucky.

Emma hugged him tightly, and petted his hair, breathing in the comforting smell of Bucky's aftershave and a linger of cigarette smoke she didn't understand how it could've gotten on him, but it seemed as if it was permanently etched into his skin.

"Have fun with Darcy. But stay safe!" she called after him as he walked towards the quinjet. Just before he got on, he gave her a devilish smirk, winked at her, and then Steve proceeded to freak out.

\---

Jane texted Emma a few hours later to tell her that Bucky had gotten there safely and that he and Darcy were currently hugging, or should she say _still_ hugging, and talking. Apparently long distance relationships could work out great if both parties had a rich friend with a quinjet.

Jane had sent a picture of Darcy in pjs and Bucky in the clothes she'd last seen him wear, hugging.

All in all, her plan had worked out fine. However, that also meant that she had no Bucky around in the tower to hang out with.

That would prove to be a problem.

Clint and Natasha were still in their honeymoon phase, Tony and Steve had Peter, and Tony SI work, Thor wasn't even around, and so that left only Bruce to hang out with. And _boy_ , was he fidgety when they were all alone.

She tried to ask if Wade could come over to play video games or something, but before she could even shoot him a text, Jarvis advised her not to. None of the Avengers really liked Deadpool, and he would probably have to fry him should he come close.

Emma managed to drag Bruce out of his lab, and drank tea with him. Well, she didn't drink tea, but he did. They did some breathing excercises, and then they sat down to have cup-a-noddles with Friends on screen.

All in all, hanging out with Bruce was okay too.

\---

"Date night?" Natasha questioned. Steve was giving her his pleading look, big baby blues nearly begging her to take the baby in his arms.

"Please Natasha? Thor isn't even here, neither is Bucky, and even if by some miracle he was, he wouldn't be able to handle him for that long, and Bruce is with Emma, Pepper is in Florida and Happy is with her! Can't you and Clint take him for just a few hours?"

Natasha sighed, but reached out to grab Peter.

"Alright. We'll make sure he stays alive," she said. Steve gave her a grateful smile.

"Thank you," he said. He kissed Peter's cheeks, and then he carefully handed over Peter to Natasha. "Okay, bye Pete! Bye!"

"Wave for pops," Natasha smirked, and Steve shot her an unimpressed glance. She just smiled and took Peter's little arm, waved his little hand. Steve smiled and waved back just before the elevator doors slid closed.

Natasha sighed and bounced Peter on her hip.

"Let's go see what Uncle Clint is doing," she said in a softer tone than usual, and started walking into their apartment. Clint was laying on the couch watching tv without a shirt on, which Natasha found very appealing. He was toned as hell, and she could feel her mouth water at the mere sight of his muscular arms.

Suddenly Natasha plopped Peter right down on Clint's exposed stomach, and his eyes snapped up.

"Natasha, what the fuck?" he more or less exclaimed, and stared at Peter with huge eyes. Peter stared right back. "Hi Peter... Nat, d'ya mind telling me why I have a... Peter on my chest?"

"You have a Peter on your chest because Steve asked us to watch him during date night," Natasha supplied.

"Aww, Peter, no," Clint groaned. Natasha walked over to their little kitchen, and opened the microwave.

"Popcorn?" she asked. Clint sat up and rearranged Peter in his arms, making the tiny boy squeal happily.

"Uh, sure. Let's just... Not let Pete have any," he said. "Wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure."

Natasha made the popcorn and sat down on the couch with Clint and Peter, and even though Clint didn't seem entirely happy about Peter's little intrusion, he was now playing with the little kid, making him smile and giggle.

"Don't get him all giggly, we'll have to put him to bed soon. Jarvis, when does he usually go to sleep?"

"At around seven thirty pm, unless he falls asleep earlier, as his naps were very short today, Agent Romanoff," Jarvis supplied.

"Uh, and right now it's..." Clint asked slowly.

"Six thirty-seven pm."

"Right," Clint sighed. "We can't put on an action movie with Pete here, can we?"

"I'm pretty sure Steve would kill us," Natasha decided. Clint sighed again and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl Natasha was holding.

"Do we have to watch baby cartoons? Cause I didn't fucking sign up for this," he said.

"Language," Natasha scolded gently, and snuggled into Clint's side in a distracted manner. Clint wrapped an arm around her without even thinking, and Natasha looked down at Peter, who was giving her his doe eyed look. The kid had Bambi eyes.

"Jarvis, do we have any of his toys here? Or a playpen? Is that a thing?" Natasha asked. Clint chuckled.

"I'm sure that's a thing. Jarvis?"

"I agree with Agent Barton. It is a 'thing'. I believe Peter's stuffed rabbit is underneath the couch, and his playpen and some other small toys are now in the elevator coming down."

Natasha got up again, and walked back to the elevator. She pulled a little playpen thing out of the elevator, and dragged it into the livingroom.

"Alright Petey, when you pass out, that's where we'll put you," she said, and pointed to the crib. Clint snorted out a laugh, and stuffed another handfull of popcorn into his mouth.

"You know he doesn't get you, right?"

"Mhm, but you do, so if I fall asleep before him, you have to put him there. Okay?" she said.

"Contrary to popular belief, I can handle a baby," Clint said as Natasha knelt on the floor, grabbing a stuffed bunny from under the couch. "Hey, look at that! Who knew we had that there."

Natasha gave Peter the toy, and got underneath Clint's arm again.

"Right, we have a kid too, Jarvis, how are Emma and Bruce doing?" Natasha asked the ceiling.

"Emma and Dr. Banner are watching a documentary about birds and eating gummy worms," Jarvis alerted them.

"Great. Give Bruce a written notification that we can come get her any time," Clint said.

"Dr. Banner has been alerted," Jarvis said.

"Thanks Jarvis."

They watched a random movie for a little while, cuddling each other without even thinking about it, and talking to Peter, until Jarvis spoke up again.

"Agent Romanoff, Agent Coulson is attempting to reach your cellphone."

"Is he now?" she muttered and hopped out of the couch with a grace that Clint was totally not at all admiring, pfft, no, what?

When she returned from her room, she had her war face on as she pressed her phone to her ear. She was dragging a dark long sleeved pull-over over her head, and as soon as it was in place, Clint noticed the grey Shield emblem on her arm.

Oh _fuck_ _no_!

"Nat?" he said carefully.

"I understand. Yes Sir. I'll be there in ten." She hung up and shot Clint an apologetic plea. "I'm sorry, shit is going down and they need my help."

"Yeah, I get it," Clint said with an unbothered shrug, but his gut was tugging uncomfortably at the thought of Nat leaving him. Natasha saw right through him, and sat down next to him and Peter on the couch, giving him a heated kiss that sent his head spinning. "Um..." was the most intelligent reply he could get out as Natasha pulled away.

She smiled and gave him another peck, quicker this one, and brushed her fingers over Peter's head.

"Okay Peter, now it's just you and Clint. Don't let him destroy anything," she said with a faked seriousness at Peter.

"Ha ha. _So_ funny, Nat," Clint said sarcastically. Natasha smiled at him.

"Alright. I'm going. Text you when I know when I'll be home," she said as she walked towards the elevator.

"Don't forget!" he called. The elevator doors slid shut, and Clint sighed as he looked down at Peter, who looked back at him with big brown eyes. "Alright, you know what? Let's watch that shit show Emma always watches, the colorful one. I can accept that one. Jarvis, what show is it?"

"I suppose you mean Adventure Time, Agent Barton," Jarvis said, and that cartoon popped up on the screen. He sighed. This night was going far from the way he wanted it to.

"Yeah. Hit it, Jarvis."

\---

Steve and Tony came for Peter at almost eleven pm. Clint noticed a new hickey on Steve's neck, and made a grossed out face as he handed the sleeping Peter over to Tony.

"Where'd Natasha go?" Steve asked quietly. Clint shrugged.

"Shield business," he replied. Steve gave him a pat on the back and a smile of pity, and he was so not doing that shit right now.

"And Emma's downstairs?" Clint nodded.

"Yup. I'm gonna hit the hay," he said, and shoved his hands into his sweats.

"Yeah, us too," Tony said with a soft smile down at Peter, who had his little arm flailed out. He was really cute, babies were really cute in general. Thank god Emma wasn't a baby though. That would've been hard. He really wasn't up for tiny kids like Peter, and neither was Natasha. Emma was just fine with them. Let Stark and Rogers handle the diaper changing and midnight feedings.

"Night," Steve said, and Clint did a mock salute before spinning on his heel. He was just gonna shower and then he'd collapse in his bed and breathe in the scent of fabric softener on his sheets, and sleep.

After a quick shower, he dried off, and grabbed a pair of boxers, crawling into his bed just in time to hear his phone chime.

Grumbling, Clint grabbed the phone, and blinked at it.

_Going to Europe. Hill needs backup. Be back in a week, maybe two. Call you tomorrow_

And then there was a stupid emoticon that Natasha loved so much, and he found himself smiling at it, reading the message another time.

"So I guess I'm gonna have to sleep alone for a while," he muttered as he texted back a quick reply, and turned on his side, facing the door.

In the dark of his room, he could make out his crumpled t-shirt that Natasha threw on his floor last night.

With a smile on his lips, he fell asleep.

\---

When Clint woke up, hours later, he wasn't alone in his bed.

Emma had her knees pressed into the small of his back, and her cold feet pressed to the back of his thighs. Her breathing was even and quiet, and he realized that the knees digging into his back in a way that should be uncomfortable, weren't there for anything but making sure that he was still breathing.

To try his theory, he held his breath.

It took a few seconds, but then he felt Emma shuffle around behind him. He breathed out again, and she settled back down with a cute little kitten noise.

With a grin, he turned around, only to see her crack an eye open.

"Why am I in your bed?" she asked with a yawn as she curled up even tighter underneath the blankets.

"I don't know. How _did_ you end up in my bed?" he asked back, and wrapped an arm around her, kissed her head gently.

"Dr. Banner placed Emma in your bed at around twelve thirty, Agent Barton," Jarvis supplied quietly.

"Oh. Why not in my own bed? Not that I'm complaining," she asked as she snuggled closer to Clint.

"He asked about the whereabouts of Agent Romanoff, and when I alerted him, he placed Emma in your bed, Agent."

"How considerate of him," he mumbled, and was about to fall back asleep again when Emma poked his chest.

"Where's Nat?"

"She's in Europe. She'll probably be gone for like a week." Emma looked like someone stole her puppy. Shit.

"So she won't be here when I start school?"

"Sorry Em. I bet Tash would love to hear all about it when she gets back though." Emma nodded, and sighed into his shirt. "How about pancakes? You can call Bucky and see how they're doing over there."

"Okay..."

\---

Emma video chatted with Bucky and Darcy as she ate breakfast. She noticed how Bucky's real arm was out of sight, probably on Darcy's lower back. Inwardly, she was grinning. She was probably grinning on the outside too, because Bucky's eyes turned to slits.

"What's so funny?" Darcy asked as she absentmindedly leaned closer to Bucky, running a hand over his cheek. Bucky was momentarily distracted by her, a soft expression crossing his features, that soon flicked away as he turned back to her.

"Oh nothing. Nothing at all. So, were you surprised, Darcy?" Emma asked, and Darcy smiled, giving Bucky a look.

"Yeah. I was really surprised." Bucky's lips twitched, and he took a bite out of a waffle.

"It's really hot here," Bucky said as he chewed thoughtfully.

"Google how to fix your air conditioner then," Emma suggested as Clint placed a toast on a plate in front of her. "Thanks Clint."

"Is Romanoff there too?" Bucky asked as Darcy took a sip from Bucky's coffee cup. How they were already so comfortable with each other was a little confusing, but Emma didn't say anything about it.

"Nah, Nat zapped off to Europe on a mission. Won't be back for like a week," Emma shrugged, even though it made her a little sad. She'd wanted for Natasha to be there on her first day of real school. Darcy's eyebrows furrowed.

"So no Natasha or Bucky? Damn, I feel a little bad about keeping him here now," she said, and guilt flickered over Bucky's features.

"Oh, geeze, no, don't worry. I've still got Lucky, and of course Clint. He's about as mopey as I am. We'll eat whipped cream out of the can together later."

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," Clint said and she grinned as he sipped his coffee, checking something on his phone.

"See? We're fine."

The elevator dinged, and Tony stepped out of the elevator, speaking to Jarvis.

"-fuck o'clock? Can't even keep him in bed long enough for me to get some beauty sleep," he muttered to his AI. Peter was on his hip, cuddling a stuffed bunny.

"Captain Rogers has a fitness regime that he idly sticks to," Jarvis pointed out.

"Fucking super soliders," Tony grumbled as he walked straight to the coffee pot.

"Morning Tony," Clint said as he sat down next to Emma. Tony only grumbled, he didn't have enough coffee in him to be civil yet. "Or should I say 'morning _caveman_ '."

Tony inhaled the coffee quick enough to register other people in the room, and bounced Peter a little on his hip, who looked a little sleepy too, surprisingly.

"Oh, give him here," Emma cooed, and Tony maneuvered Peter into Emma's lap. Darcy cooed on the other side and Bucky squinted at Peter, as if he'd be able to touch him through the screen.

"Oh Tony, he's so cute!" Darcy said. Even in this tired state, Tony beamed, and smiled as he ran a hand over Peter's head.

"Yeah. I know. He really is," he said quietly. "He kept me up like all night, and he shat himself, but he's _so_ cute." Emma grinned as she nuzzled his little baby hair.

"How's Pepper?" Darcy asked. Tony hummed.

"She's good. All good. I'm working on this new thing we're gonna launch pretty soon, so she's all about that right now, campaigns and stuff, and she's also planning our wedding and keeping track of my baby, not the alive one but SI, aaand... I think she and Happy are getting engaged?"

"Wait, what?" Emma said, looking up from Peter. "They are?"

"Oh yeah, Happy was beating around the bush when we talked about it, but there's totally something that's gonna go down there pretty soon."

"Oh shit, are they gonna marry before you and Cap do?" Clint asked as he consumed enough coffee in one swallow to end world thirst. Tony shrugged.

"Dunno. I'd be damned if I won't get her a wedding as grand as my own. God knows she deserves it."

"For putting up with you for years?" Clint said, mock considering. "Yeah. Might be a good idea." Tony smiled at him.

"Wanna see a pretty hickey I got last night, Legolas? It's on my _ass_ ," Tony said, and Clint made a grossed out noise through his mouthful of cereal.

"Not with children in the room!" Emma said and covered Peter's ears, who did a little noise of confusion, still with his pacifier in his mouth. Tony took Peter back, and placed him in his high chair, easily dropping Clint and his squabble.

"So what're you guys gonna do today?" Emma asked Bucky and Darcy.

"Uhm, well, we'll probably have to fix the air conditioner, or we're all gonna drop dead," Darcy said. Bucky huffed.

"With this heat, we've got about three days if we start preserving water," he said. Darcy looked adorably confused for about three seconds.

"We've got running water. And a fridge. How do you even know that we only have three days?" Bucky's eyes flicked to the screen.

"Experience." Darcy frowned, and had somehow gotten closer to Bucky without anyone noticing, because she was now curled even closer underneath his arm.

"Oh god, that's absolutely fucking horrible," she said, and sounded distraught. Bucky seemed confused, Emma could see it in the way his eyebrows twitched a little, how he blinked at her like she'd just done the craziest thing ever.

It tugged on Emma's heart, but it also showed that Darcy's spitfireness, which is totally not a word that she just made up, was good for him. That she spoke her mind was admirable, really.

Bucky shrugged a little, and Darcy seemed displeased, but didn't say anything.

"Well, we're gonna go to the park and enjoy Emma's last day of freedom," Clint said, always the knight in shining armor when it came to changing subjects. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah... Oh man, we should go to the movies!" she said. Clint hummed.

"Any special movies you got in mind?"

"Something for kids."

"Aw man."

"Suck it up Barton, she only watches chick flicks and action movies with me," Bucky said, and Emma grinned wide and bright and Clint could watch a boring kids movie a hundred times as long as Emma kept grinning.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whooo boy. If I ever finish this thing, I'm gonna have to make a series out of it....


	38. First Day Of School And Newly-Found Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've started this kind of updating pattern, once every like six days? That's ish my schedule rn and I'll try to stick to it

 

They did watch a movie, a kids movie, and Clint kinda felt old as dirt as they did, but he and Emma had a contest of who could throw the most popcorn at people without being noticed, and that was hilarious. 

Emma won.

They ate dinner with the others, since there were merely four Avengers currently at the tower, and no guests. They chit-chatted a little bit, apparently Peter was making more and more coherent sounds now that he was almost eight months old.

Clint found it hilarious that Tony was the one Peter called mama.

"If we didn't know before, this is pure evidence that Tony is the bottom in your relationship," Clint chuckled, and Tony took it in stride, laughing with him.

"At least he's talking," he pointed out.

"We're gonna hold this over him when he's older," Clint decided, and Emma smiled.

"Peter, who's that?" Steve said in his baby voice, pointing at Tony, who grinned widely. Peter looked a little confused.

"Mama?" he said, his voice every bit as befuddled as the small person it belonged to. Tony laughed and kissed Peter's head.

"That's right. Mama," he said, and Peter started giggling his baby laugh.

"Mama!"

"Yeah, sweetie," Tony said and made air plane noises as he scooped some baby food into Peter's mouth. Peter made a content noise.

"Well at least he knows who his parents are," Bruce pointed out. "With as many people who come and go here, I think that's pretty impressive."

"Yeah. And his freaky spider powers are totally sweet, especially the walking on walls thing," Emma said through her mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Steve chided, and Clint snorted loudly, nearly snorting spaghetti out of his nose.

When everyone had eaten themselves full, Tony let Peter climb the wall under close surveillance from both him and Steve. It didn't take long for Peter to get tuckered out, and he fell asleep about an hour later.

After a while, Bruce retreated too, and Clint and Emma started playing cards, trading tips and tricks. Turns out Emma already knew most of them.

"Who taught you that?" Clint asked suspiciously. Emma shrugged as she pushed the huge pile of cards his way.

"Charlie. And Natasha."

"Natasha taught you how to cheat at cards?"

"Well, no, but she taught me that I should always use other people's expectations of me against them," Emma said carefully. "That I should act innocent and then strike them down." She tossed a card at him for no apparent reason, and it hit Clint smack in the face. Emma laughed.

"Sounds like something she'd teach you," Clint admitted with a smile and flicked a card back at her.

"She also taught me how to snap someone's neck with my thighs." Clint raised his eyebrows. "She's trying, maybe I should say." He chortled.

"So. School tomorrow. How's that feel?" he asked as he took her cards and shuffled them, opting for poker. Emma shrugged.

"I'm a little nervous. I've never actually gone to an actual school where I didn't have to cut people's fingers off to stay alive." Clint's jaw tensed. "I'm more excited than nervous, I'd say."

"Good. You know, otherwise we could get you homeschooled..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, but I don't wanna be homeschooled. I wanna meet people. I want to have friends my own age. And I get that it's hard for like, literally everyone in this building to make friends without it being either a feeble acquaintance thing or the most trustworthy of all trustworthy bonds of life, but there is an in-between. I intend to find it." Emma put her cards on the table, and Clint trumped her cards easily.

"Okay. I get that. Just tell me and Nat if someone gets in your way and we'll take care of them," he said in a distracted manner. Emma looked a little horrified.

"Are you guys seriously gonna kill someone my age if they get in my way?"

"What? No, god no, we're superheroes, not supervillians, Em. I just meant that we'd scare the shit out of them." Emma nodded.

"Seems fair." Clint glanced up at the clock.

"Oh shit, you should go to bed. You have school in the morning. Nat will have my head on a stick if we oversleep."

They quickly made their way up to their rooms. Clint helped her pick out clothes for the next day: a purple t-shirt and dark jeans, with a new pair of chucks.

"Alright, you know where you can find me," Clint said, pointing at her with a very 'I'm serious' look.

"No, I don't actually. Are you stealing Nat's room for the night?"

"Uh, nah. I'll stay in my own room," he said. Emma nodded as they got into the bathroom together.

After a totally called for toothbrush-off, Clint tucked Emma in, even giving her forehead a kiss.

"You won't be lonely now?" Emma asked as she laid back down under the covers. Clint shrugged it off.

"I'll be fine, Em. I've slept without Nat before. It's kind of, like, all I did for years," he pointed out with a small smile.

A pitter patter was heard, and Lucky came into her room, jumping up on her bed.

"You'll keep watch?" Clint said to Lucky, petting him and scratching behind his ears as Emma's hands ran over Lucky's spine. Emma pampered Lucky way too much probably, but Lucky loved it and Emma loved it, so he let them continue.

Plus, it was super cute when Lucky came running and Emma made a little squeal noise that just screamed 'puppy love'.

"Okay, you have Lucky, you have your nightlight, and I'll be in the next room over," he said as he kissed her forehead once again. Emma nodded and adjusted so that Lucky could do his thing where he flopped his head next to her lower back so that she could reach him at all times. "Night Em," Clint said as he flicked the lights off.

"Night," she replied quietly, tucking herself in tightly underneath her blankets.

It was quiet, too quiet, and she was nervous.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she picked her tablet up from her nightstand, sending a video call.

"I already forgot I had one of these," Bucky murmured from the other side, and Emma smiled. She heard a click and a light was turned on, illuminating Bucky's silhouette. She could see the corners of his mouth tipping slightly upwards.

"You don't. Technically. I snuck it into your suitcase in case I had to call you more on the down low." His raspy chuckle was worth it.

"You're weird."

"I know. I'm scared."

"What for?"

"Starting school. What if they don't like me?" she asked quietly.

"Then they're stupid and haven't gotten to know you good enough," Bucky replied, and sounded actually offended she should ask such a thing. Emma's hand found Lucky's soft fur.

"But what if my classes suck?"

"Then you're in school. Living the school life."

"What if I can't get any friends?"

"Then I'll come every day and eat lunch with you."

"Seriously?"

"Sure, doll. Point is, you don't got anything to worry 'bout. All you have to do is have fun while it lasts," he muttered.

"Aw, Buck, that's so deep of you. And really sweet. You're making me so happy." He was silent for a while.

"Me and Darcy are having fun." Emma smiled.

"Yeah? What did you do?"

"We went out on a date. That was nice. We talked a lot. About stars and trees. And the internet. She's really helpful, unlike _some_ people." Emma laughed.

"Excuuuse me, you're not a good student."

"Now you're just being mean," he mumbled, his voice coated with sleepiness.

"So what're you gonna do when I'm gone during school hours?" Emma asked teasingly. Bucky's chortle was gruff.

"I'll probably end up watching Dog Cops with Darcy over the computer. Or go on runs with Sam and Stevie."

"That sounds fun."

"I'll be waiting for you when you come back home," he said quietly, voicing her insecurities.

"You think so?"

"I know so. Now go to sleep. You've got school in the morning." Emma grinned.

"Night Bonnie."

"Night Clyde."

She turned the tablet off, smiling as she placed it back on her nightstand. Curling up underneath the blankets, Emma sighed quietly.

She'd be fine. If Bucky said she'd be fine, she'd be fine.

\---

After a quick breakfast and lots of hugs and good luck wishes, Emma and Clint were off to her school.

It was called Angel Grounds Middle School, and Emma was practically bouncing in her seat. Clint was a classic rock junkie, but they were currently listening to some classical music that Emma knew was Natasha's. Clint even tapped his fingers along, so apparently Natasha got to choose music a lot.

When they pulled over at the school, Emma hopped out after Clint, staring up at the school for a few seconds, taking a deep breath.

He pulled her into a hug which she retaliated. Clint gave her hair a kiss.

"You be good, alright?" he said, giving her a stern look from behind his purple sunglasses that made Emma grin.

"I'll try. Text me if Nat calls," she said.

"Will do," Clint said when she mock saluted him, and walked over to the stairs. Clint sighed as he watched her red short curls bop as she hopped up the stairs, easily blending into the stream of kids.

He held his clock to his mouth, pressed a button.

"Baby Birdspider is dropped," he declared quietly, his glasses searching for threats in the crowd, identifying students everywhere. He probably shouldn't be wearing his Shield issued target-glasses off missions, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"I think you're being a little overprotective, Barton," Coulson declared on the other side, his voice a mix of his trying-to-remain-professional tone and just plain amusement.

"Am not," Clint retorted, giving the crowd a last suspicious glance.

"Does Agent Romanoff know that you're doing this?" Coulson asked.

"Just tell me about her teachers, and let me worry about Nat, kay?" Clint said dismissively. She'd agree with him. Probably. Yeah.

He fired his truck up again.

"All are believed to be sane and no suspicious activities, no track record of any stuff even on our radar," Coulson said. Then he added, more gently "She's a tough kid. She'll be fine."

"Yeah," he said quietly. Who could blame him for wanting to keep an extra eye on his kid? His kid with superpowers. That could kill people. That could make things explode with her mind. _Damn_ , he had a pretty cool kid. "Let's just hope the school is as tough."

\---

Emma was fucking thrilled! She was in a school!

An actual, real, live school that wasn't going to teach her how to kill someone! Now that was progress from her last school.

The walls were white, and some parts red, since those were the school colors, and she let her eyes wander over it all. She found herself noting the exits, the windows, any weak points the school might have.

And then there was only the people to think about. All the people.

Internally, she was hollering.

She hadn't seen this kind of commotion since the circus, and chaos like that was something she could feel comfortable with.

Now with more confidence, Emma strode into the office, smiling at the young blonde girl behind one of the desks, tapping away on her computer.

"Hi. I'm Emma Barton. I'm new?" she said and the girl nodded, started telling her where to go. The problem was, Emma was really too easily distracted for her own good.

She ended up missing half of the blonde's speech, and mildly panicking as she trudged out of the office. With her schedule in hand, she began walking through the hallways. Turning left, she saw a girl, with auburn hair with a coppar-ish tone, and green eyes hidden behind thick glasses. She was clutching notebooks like she was afraid for her life, when two girls and a burly boy passed her. The guy more or less shoved her as they walked by, and the girls snickered.

"Hey! Watch it!" Emma called after them, but the notion seemed lost when she reached the girl picking up her formerly so tightly clutched books. She handed her one of the notebooks, and the girl stared at her with big eyes. "Hey. Do they give you much trouble?" she asked. The girl shrugged.

"Not all the time. But usually, yes."

"Sorry to hear that. You got a name?"

"I'm Hope Summers," the girl said carefully, and Emma smiled at her.

"Emma Barton," she said, let the last name come naturally. "So. Bullies?" Emma asked. Hope shrugged. 

"Nothing I have a problem with handling," she said carefully, picking the last notebook off the ground. Emma nodded.

"Yeah. Totally get that. Just, holler at me if you need me to slug someone," Emma said. Hope laughed, and pushed her glasses higher up on her nasal bridge.

"'Slug someone'? That's awfully barbaric. Are you one of those... 'Thugs'?" Hope looked a little scared, and Emma laughed.

"I prefer to punch first and ask later, yes, but that's probably my family's fault. I just know how to throw a punch," she said with a smile. "What's your next lesson?"

"Uh... Chemistry. Mr. Jackson."

"Awesome, me too!" Emma grinned. Hope smiled too.

"Would you care to accompany me?"

"That sounds awesome, especially since I don't know the way. Assigned seats or nah?"

"No, Mr. Jackson doesn't do assigned seats," Hope said, looking a little shy as they started walking together.

"Cool. Wanna sit with me?" Hope nodded, and Emma grinned.

This school year could be fun.

 

Turns out, she and Hope had a lot of classes together. Emma really liked Hope, she seemed harmless enough to follow Emmas shennanigan's blindly, with mild whining. She could take that. Mild whining was better than refusal.

At lunch, Emma bought nachos, and Hope had her lunch with her. Hope led her to a table with three other people. A blonde girl, with her hair up in a ponytail, a guy with dark hair and olive skin, and a short kid with glasses were sitting at the table.

The blond girl was texting, but she was talking to the others too, and eating. Her skirt was pink and knee-length, and she wore white Nike Airs, and a plain, tight, white shirt, one small silver chain around her wrist. Her eyes were blue, and her features round and prominent. She was beautiful, and effortlessly so.

The short kid had short curly brown hair, and he was talking about something like a true geek, passionate and loud. He had freckles too, and a dark tee and pants. He looked like he had a growth spurt during the summer, and he hadn't gotten new clothes just yet, since they were a little too small.

And then Emma's eyes landed on the dark haired boy. His hair was really dark, thick and swept upwards, but without gel. When he looked up, Emma's breath nearly caught. His cheekbones were prominent, and his eyes blue with specks of green in them, a hella pretty combo. He was pretty tan too, and had a light blue button up, and darker blue shorts. His nose was slim and pointy, and he looked maybe a slightly bit like he was an angel. Wowza.

Emma decided not to prod on that; she was in school to make friends, not get crushes. Or get crushed because of crushes.

"Hi guys," Hope said and sat down, made a nudging motion for Emma to do the same. She did, seating herself inbetween the hella pretty dude and Hope. "This is Emma, she's new here."

"I'm Layla," the blonde girl said, and gave her a smile. It wasn't open or unguarded, but inviting. A popular girl, Emma presumed. "That's TJ," she said and pointed to the geek that had suddenly stopped talking, staring at her with awe. "And that's Damian." She pointed to the hella pretty boy, who nodded at her.

"Yes, I know how to introduce myself, thank you, Jones," he said, and the eyeroll was obvious in his tone. "Welcome to Torture Grounds."

"Don't scare her off immediately, Damian!" Hope chastised, and poked TJ's side. "Stop staring at her, she's not some alien." Emma smirked.

"No. I'm not. My name's Emma Barton. Nice to meet you guys," she said, and gave Damian a second look when he popped a french fry in his mouth.

"Welcome to the Squintsquad, you are now eternally condemned to our company, the hyenas have spotted you," Layla announced, and everyone turned to look behind them. Five guys and three girls saw Emma, noted her, and kept on walking. Layla sighed.

"I've been stuck with the Squintsquad since I decided to stop acting dumb. And here I am, with my high IQ, feeling utterly dismissed."

"Oh, come on Layla, you don't miss them that bad, do you?" TJ asked, looked a little uncertain. Some of the venom in Layla's posture drained.

"Nah. I get better grades now. You guys are pretty great. Although, I miss the expensive slumberparties," she sighed thoughtfully. Damian snorted.

"Those can still be arranged," Damian pointed out.

"It's not the same. Your brothers are super cute, Dami, but they're not the gossipy type, you know."

"We agree on a lot of things, Jones, except for the 'cute' part. Now, which classes do we share, Barton?" he asked, turning to her with a sly smirk on tantalizing lips that Emma had to stop herself from touching. She pulled her schedule out.

"I don't know. You show me yours and I'll show you mine," she said, and his half-smirk would kill her.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope Summers is an actual thing, I'm 90 % sure she's a mutant of some sort, also guess who else is a actual thing? ;)


	39. Surprises And Girly Sighing

 

Darcy was shell shocked when she opened her door, still in her pjs, expecting it to be Ian with delicious coffee, and instead found Bucky standing there, with flowers in hand, and an adorable blush on his cheeks.

"Uh... Hi?" he said, and did a small crooked smile that sent her heart fluttering. She realized she was just standing there in shock.

"James!" she suddenly exclaimed after a beat of silence, and threw herself into his arms. He gave out a surprised noise, and stiffened in her grip, but relaxed soon enough, and enveloped her carefully in a hug.

The heady scent of Bucky enveloped her, and she laughed into his chest.

"Surprise," he murmured into her hair, and she looked up at him with a grin so wide it should have made her face split in two.

"Yeah, what a surprise! How-when- wh-" Darcy cut herself off to take a breath, and Bucky smiled quietly.

"Emma's idea, Tony has a quinjet, and... I just... Wanted to see you," he said quietly, unsure of himself. Yeah, he'd been pretty confident before he got on the plane, but a few hours alone and he'd been in a gloomy mood.

Until he saw Darcy.

"Holy crap, this is... You're the sweetest," she said as she released him, getting the flowers. She smelled them and smiled at him from under her lashes. "Come on in."

 

It didn't take them long to end up on the couch, talking and cozying up to each other. It took Bucky by surprise how easy it was to talk to her, to smile with her, laugh with her. It kinda scared the shit out of him. Like the way it felt to fall off a bridge. It tickled his stomach and it was a pretty horrifying experience, but it was so _good_.

Before he knew it, Darcy was nestled in his lap with her head on his shoulder and laughing at a stupid show, and he just felt so damn comfortable. Ridiculous. The Winter Solider, being broken down by a child and having his heart ache for a woman with a beautiful smile and a love for stupid tv shows and dogs.

Yeah. Ridiculous.

Even more ridiculous was that he really really liked it.

They went out to dinner at a restaurant the same night, and Darcy wore a beautiful dress in a dark red tone, and did a garbled sound at him in a suit jacket. They talked and laughed and he found that she could be patient with him, and listened tentatively when he told her the things he remembered from his past, and by god, the woman was incredible.

They walked home, his real arm wrapped around her shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed from laughter and her eyes twinkled and Bucky knew that it was so bad to get attached, but... Come on!

They stopped outside of Darcy and Jane's shared place, and he gently grabbed her chin, tilted her head up to meet his eyes.

"You know, you're a giant," Darcy complained, and Bucky smiled, nodding.

"I know."

"It's unfair for my tiny legs."

"Want me to come down to your level?"

"Yes please."

He ducked his head down a little, and rested his forehead to Darcy's, hearing her soft hum of approval.

"You smell really really good. Like a mix of aftershave and sandalwood and... cigarettes? Do you smoke?"

"I grew up when cigarettes was a normal thing, I probably smoked at one point. Or was surrounded by smokers," he pointed out. A memory flickered in his mind, and suddenly he was very aware of the fact that Darcy's lips were very close and very kissable.

The thought made him jump, and he bumped noses with Darcy in a way that made them both let out undignified noises of discomfort.

"Oh geeze, sorry to scare you. We don't have to kiss or anything," she said with a comforting smile as she rubbed her nose. He stayed silent, contemplating his rate of survival.

"I... I want to, but-"

"It's okay, James," she reassured him with a squeeze to his real arm. "I get it. You were wiped clean, and hurt, and then these people did awful fucking things to you, and you need time. I get that. Totally get it." She grabbed his metal hand and played with his fingers for a moment. "Let's get inside."

He followed her numbly, and realized that he really didn't deserve Darcy. He didn't deserve someone that kind and understanding. It made his breath come a little harder, made him swallow hard as they trotted into the kitchen. 

Jane was sat in the office, or the workshop, Bucky didn't know what to call it, and was muttering to herself, drawing on a piece of paper. She looked about as absorbed as one could get, and Darcy ignored her as they sat down on the couch again.

It didn't take that long for Darcy to fall asleep, her breathing even and calm, with a small smile on her face. He gently carried her to her room and tucked her in there, stroked a lock of brown hair out of her face.

Then he retreated to the couch, and redressed in sweats and a t-shirt. It was one of those nerdy t-shirts Emma had made him buy because of the huge Captain America shield on it. He felt a sting of affection for the little girl and wondered what she had done during the night.

 

When he woke up, he realized it was to warm air and moisture clinging to his skin, and he sat up quickly, taking in his surroundings, what target was it now, what did they-

Hrm. Nope. Just the AC, still not working. With Darcy in New Mexico. Right.

Bucky had jerked up into a sitting position pretty forcefully, hard enough to notify his surroundings. Darcy was hugging a boy, taller than her, and Bucky felt a twinge in his stomach. Anger? No. That sure as hell wasn't anger. Not guilt, not sadness, just... Jealousy?

Now, that was new.

He got up from the couch and walked over, as cheery as his usual cheery self. Super cheery. The boy's face paled as he saw Bucky, and he took no small sense of satisfaction in that. He may have seriously considered putting stickers on his metallic arm made to kill people yesterday, but damn it if he didn't still look scary when he wanted to.

"James!" Darcy said happily as she bounced over to him. He pulled her into a hug, and it felt natural and very nice to have her to close to him.

"Mornin'," Bucky said, not breaking eye contact with Ian. The kid swallowed, looking pretty horrified. Damn straight he should.

"Stop scaring the shit out of my intern," Darcy said and broke the embrace with a laugh. Bucky raised his eyebrows the tiniest bit, as if saying 'what are you talking about? Little innocent me?', and Darcy grinned. "Ian, this is James, my super awesome boyfriend, James, this is Ian, my intern."

"I thought you were the intern," he said, and Darcy waved him off as Ian stretched out a shaky hand.

"Hi," he said, his eyes wide. Bucky didn't shake his hand. Darcy whistled.

"Yikes. Uncomfortable. He doesn't touch people all that much," she explained as she grabbed Bucky's hand and dragged him into the kitchen. "Cereal?"

"You have Lucky Charms?" Bucky said incredulously as Darcy pulled a bright red packet out of a cupboard.

"Yeah. Clint likes me for some reason, so I get to partake in cereal raids and take my fair share of the bounty sometimes. I got kind of addicted to it, so I got some," she explained with a shrug. Bucky shook his head in disbelief, and grabbed a bowl out of a cupboard, along with some milk. "Coffee?"

"God, yes please," Bucky groaned. Darcy put some coffee on as suddenly a loud noise came out of Bucky's bag. He got off the chair, and grabbed a tablet from his bag, scoffing. Emma was too sneaky for her own good.

Ian had started making waffles, as Bucky set the tablet up and answered the video call.

He was greeted by Emma with a bed head and a t-shirt that said "Brainwashers enjoy wasting time" with a big skull. He'd have to ask her about that later.

"Hi Bucky!" she grinned, and she lit up like a little flame when she smiled, that ever present gleam in her eyes.

"Hi doll," he said with a half smile.

 

Their day was spent discussing how to fix the air conditioner, and they ended up going shopping just to buy lots of fans. The last of the summer heat was killing them, now with four and/or five people buzzing about the apartment. But it was nice, because Bucky's metal arm was rarely very warm, and during the day, Darcy would just grab his arm and press it against some part of her body and groan as the cool metal soothed her heated skin. Bucky felt his knees go a little weak every time she did it.

By night time when they were all eating takeout, Ian brought a friend over to fix the AC. After an hour of cursing, it started up again, and they all cheered and somewhere along the way, booze came out, and Bucky kind of hated his serum for literally killing his buzz, but it Darcy was a giggly drunk, and it was pretty adorable. 

He slept on the couch again, more for himself than for Darcy. He was just about to fall asleep when the same ringing that he'd heard this morning came out from under the couch. He dragged the tablet out and pressed answer.

"I already forgot I had one of these," he said, shifting on the couch to turn the light next to him on.

 

The next day, Darcy was only a little hung over, or so she claimed, but he could see her wincing at light and noise. He wasn't stupid. They spent the morning in Darcy's bed with a show called Dog Cops, and eating whipped cream straight out of the can. If this was what Emma meant when she said 'love', he could deal with it. It was more than okay actually.

He went for a run around Darcy's town, and came back to an empty apartment and a note from Darcy saying Jane had an epiphany this morning and that they were off to buy some stuff they'd need for an experiment. He did his usual regime of exercise and added some new stretching moves Natasha had urged him to try, before showering and putting on some sweatpants.

Bucky's eyes caught the mirror on accident as he was walking by it. Even though he shouldn't, he stopped in front of it, staring at the spiderwebs of scars by his left arm. It was ugly, really, the way the metal connected to his skin, the way the scars surrounded his left side. 

"Hi James, we're home!" Darcy called as he heard a door open. Godammit, he'd left his shirt out in the living room. She'd have to see it. He shivered at the mere thought. Obviously, she was going to be disgusted. He sure was. Even with Tony's slightly new design, it still attached the same way, and it connected to his skin the exact same way. 

Bucky had to solider through it.

Gritting his teeth, he walked out of the bathroom, only to see Darcy with her back turned to him, packing up a bag. He saw some explosives in there, but it didn't worry him in the least. His mission was to get to his shirt without Darcy seeing his arm and-

"James?" Darcy said breathlessly. Her gaze was stuck on his chest, and he quickly snapped out of it, finding his shirt on the couch. He was just about to put it back on when two hands suddenly pressed to his chest, making his breath catch. "James."

He stopped his motions, with the Captain America shirt halfway over his head, and his eyes connected with Darcy's. She bit her lip.

"Can I see?" she asked quietly, her eyes pleading. Wait... She... Wanted to see? Puzzled beyond belief, he slowly complied, tugging the shirt over his head again. Darcy swallowed hard as she, with light fingertips, traced one of the scars that went in a jagged line by his collar bone. "Wow... Do they... Do they hurt?"

Her pretty eyes flicked up to his, and all he could see was unadultered worry in them. Worrying. About him. Dumbstruck, he shrugged.

"Sometimes. Sometimes when I have nightmares." Her fingers were tracing his scars so gently... Was she not seeing how ugly they were? How could she not?

She held eye contact as she leaned in and kissed one of the scars so lightly he barely felt it. It made things flutter in his stomach.

Darcy Lewis was one remarkable woman.

\---

"Bye Happy!" Emma called. Happy waved, and she happily skipped into the lobby, waved at the receptionist, who waved back. She skipped into the elevator. "Hi Jarvis!" she said.

"Hello miss Emma. Was your first day of school satisfactory?" Jarvis cool voice asked her.

"Oh, it was more than satisfactory, it was awesome! I made friends my age!" she exclaimed. "I'm so happy, where's everyone?"

"Sir is currently sleeping on the couch in the common area with young master Peter on his chest, Captain Rogers is in the gym, Dr. Banner is in the kitchen, and Agent Barton is at Shield, working. As far as I can tell, Prince Thor is currently off this world, Sergeant Barnes is in New Mexico, and Agent Romanoff is still in Europe."

"Aww, man. I'll have to tell them later then. Will Clint be back by dinner?"

"He promised that he would be, and Agent Barton said that he wanted to hear all about your first day when he did." Emma grinned. 

"Awesome. I'm really hungry. I have  _homework_! How awesome is that?!" She sighed happily and sank back against the elevator wall.  "Take me to the kitchen."

"Of course, miss," Jarvis said quietly. 

When the elevator opened, Emma skipped out of the elevator and into the kitchen.

"Bruce, I have homework!" she exclaimed happily, nearly squealing. Bruce looked up with a happy smile, drinking a cup of tea, but he put a finger to his lips.

"Tony and Peter are sleeping," he whispered, and Emma nodded quickly, focused on staying silent as she walked over to him, slinging her bookbag up on the counter with a thud. "So you had fun?" he asked in a lowered tone, and Emma nodded.

"Yeah, tons of it! I made friends my own age! First I met Hope, some dude pushed her so she dropped her books, and I helped them pick them up, and we started talking, and she was really nice, so she sat behind me in chemistry, and we sent notes when the teacher wasn't looking, and it was hilarious, because she has really nice handwriting, like a neat one. And then, during lunch, she introduced me to her other friends, Layla, TJ, and  _Damian_."

"Why the eyeflutter at  _Damian_?" Bruce smiled, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made him look much younger and less tired.

"I did not eyeflutter!" Emma hiss-whispered. 

"Ohooo. I'm sensing a crush on this Damian."

"He's pretty, okay, how is that my fault? Anywho, each of them is in at least one of my classes. It's awesome, really. I can't wait to go back to school. School!" She squealed again, and Bruce smiled at her, gave her hand a warm pet.

"Good for you," he said. Bruce might not be jumping up and down with enthusiasm, but he was still happy for her, and she was sated at that. 

She could hear mumbling in the adjacent room, and walked in on Tony kissing Peter's head lovingly as the infant slept with his thumb in his mouth, his other hand splayed directly over the arc reactor. It was an adorable scene, and had Emma been good at drawing, she would have drawn them. Steve probably had, honestly, so it was not a scene that would go undocumented. 

Tony carefully sat up.

"How long, Jay?" he asked, sighing.

"Approximately two hours," Jarvis said. Tony sighed, rubbed his eyes without letting his other hand off Peter.

"Just great. Fucking brilliant."

"Hi Tony!" Emma squeal-whispered. Tony looked up, shot her a beaming smile.

"Emma! How was school?" he asked and slowly stood up when Peter began to rub his eyes sleepily. She retold the story she had told Bruce moments earlier, and Tony too frowned at the mention of Damian's name.

" _Damian_? What's with the swooning?" he asked.

"Am I pronouncing his name wrong or some shit?" Emma said, exasperated. Tony shook his head as Peter began to grumble.

"It's the tone, not the way you pronounce it, it's got this whole girly sigh thing around it." Emma snorted, and Peter saw her, smiled at her.

"Hi little guy!" she said and took his little hand and kissed it. He squealed happily, and Tony made a face.

"I have to pee, Em, please take him for a second?" Tony asked. She sighed. 

"Who wants to come to Auntie Emma? Huh? Wanna come to me so that your dad doesn't die from his bladder exploding?" Emma said in her baby voice and carefully plucked Peter out of Tony's arms. 

"God, don't say that with that tone, it's all about the  _tone_ ," Tony said and shuddered as he skidded off to the bathroom. Emma walked into the kitchen again, getting Bruce to wave at Peter and Peter to wave back. 

"You wanna know what Auntie Emma did today? She went to school," Emma said as Peter snuggled up to her, watching her prepare something to eat. "She had lots of fun, and she made friends. Just like you will one day, you eternal cutiepie."

Peter mumbled, trying to fall asleep on her shoulder, but she didn't let him, and he made an angry noise when Tony came back into the kitchen. 

"Hi baby," he said as he took Peter from her again, and Peter made a happy noise at seeing his dad again. "Wanna watch Finding Nemo with us, Em?" 

"I can do some reading then, so sure!" Emma said happily.

"Oh yeah, did you get any annoying teachers?" Tony asked as he grabbed a pair of baby socks that were currently on the floor. 

"Nah. They all seemed pretty nice actually," Emma said as she grabbed her bookbag, dragging it into the common room along with Tony.

"You sure? Me and Brucie wouldn't mind visiting your school," he said innocently. 

"Tony, no!" Bruce called from the kitchen.

"I do wish to remind you that for Emma's privacy, you wished for her not to be noticed," Jarvis said.

"Yeah, and I'm not about to lose my new friends!" Emma said.

"Geeze, it was just a suggestion...." 

"Thank god you voiced it and didn't just do it," Emma mumbled as she pulled her books out. "So! I have homeroom with all of them, and then science and math with Hope, P.E. and specials with Damian, music and social studies with TJ, and English and foreign languages with Layla. And we all have the same lunch period."

"So you've got yourself a little squad of your own, huh?" Tony grinned as he settled Peter in his lap. 

"Yup," Emma said, popping the 'p'. "The Squintsquad, I believe Layla called it?" Tony chuckled.

"Good for you, kiddo," he said as the opening scene of Finding Nemo lit up the screen.

\---


	40. Sad Showers And Rescue Missions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a chapter a day early, because I'm aLWAYS A SLUT FOR EARLY UPDATES  
> Also, you guys were super nice in the comments and I got a lot of kudos, so I decided to whip this out asap.  
> Enjoy! <3

 

As it turns out, Emma sucked at doing homework. She was very easily distracted, but she could at least get it done. Clint came home right before dinner, exhausted and pissed, but he still listened intently to Emma's every word as she told him about her school day.

" _Damian_?" Clint said, raising an eyebrow. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, his name is Damian."

"Damian sounds like bad news," he said.

"Then I guess I'm just like you, and bad news attracts me," she said as he smirked and closed his eyes. He leant his head against back of the couch, and Emma caught sight of something red and liquidy by his right temple. "You're bleeding."

"Am not."

"Are too," Emma said as she grabbed a tissue and dabbed where she thought it was bleeding. Clint didn't hiss, per se, but he made a noise of discomfort, and Emma huffed. "What did you do today?"

"Mostly filed old reports. Sparred with an old friend."

"Did they get the drop on you?" she said with a smirk. Clint scoffed.

"As if."

"They why are you bleeding?" He sighed and took the tissue from her hand.

"Grown up stuff."

"Did you walk into a wall again?"

"...Maybe." Emma laughed as she dabbed at his head again.

"You need to start using your eyes more," she decided.

"I'm Hawkeye! I use my eyes all the time! Maybe I need to stop using them to much!" he accused, and Emma smiled.

"I had homework," she said as she crept a little closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in, still holding the tissue to his forehead.

"Oh shit, was it hard?"

"I didn't get all the math stuff, but Bruce is good at explaining and doesn't lose me along the way like Tony does. Also, apparently it's 'below him' to do like, sixth grade math." Clint snorted.

"There's a lot of shit that's below him. Did you get any teachers you like?"

"Yeah, there's this teacher named Mr. Fitz, he's super cool," she said happily.

"What does he teach?"

"Social Studies. I'm also in his homeroom."

"So I take it you like school?"

"Yeah!" Emma squealed.

"That's great, sweetie," Clint said and pressed a kiss to her hair. They sat in silence for a moment, when suddenly a ringtone was heard. Clint moved so that he could shove his hand down his back pocket and whip out his phone. "Hey, it's Nat!"

"Oh, put it on speaker!" Emma demanded. Clint did as she asked.

"Hi Nat, you're on speakerphone!" Clint said into the phone. He heard a quiet scoff on the other side.

"Hi Clint," came Natasha's beautiful voice from the other side, and it felt like warm honey had just slipped down Clint's throat just from hearing it. "I'm going to guess it's Emma too?"

"Hi Nat!" Emma said happily. Clint heard a happy sigh from the other side.

"Hi возлюбленный," she said softly. Fuck the press that said that she couldn't be maternal. She could be soft and sweet and horrifying and hard as a blade, but she felt. Natasha wasn't the robot she'd been trained to be, she wasn't the heartless bitch other people saw her as; that was how she wanted them to see her. Like she had nothing to lose.

That tone proved the exact opposite.

"How was your first day at school?" Natasha asked. Emma told her the same thing she'd told everyone else. Aaaaand, right on que with the others.... " _Damian_." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, his name is Damian. He's got a nice face." Natasha's soft chuckle was worth Clint's little squint.

"Obviously he does, if he's caught your attention."

"Also, Hope is nice. Can I bring her around the tower sometime? And maybe Damian too?" Emma asked carefully.

"I guess you could talk to Tony about it," Clint suggested. "He'll let Jarvis let her up along with you."

"Don't you guys have that kind of authority?"

"I do. Clint doesn't anymore," Natasha said, and the smirk was obvious in her tone.

"The one time the pizza man is an assassin, and I have to take the blame!" Clint said, exasperated. Natasha chuckled.

"It was a good pizza though." Clint's lips broke into a grin.

"Yeah, it was."

"Isn't it pretty late in the states right now?" Natasha asked after a beat of silence.

"Uh, yeah. Isn't it pretty early in... Where you are?" Emma asked.

"Yes. But you should go to bed. You have school in the morning," Natasha pointed out. Emma grinned.

"I do! Night Tasha, stay safe!" Emma said as she disentangled herself from Clint.

"Goodnight возлюбленный." Emma swung herself over the couch, and called out for Bucky as she made her way into the kitchen. Clint switched off speaker and pressed the phone to his ear.

"How's the mission going?" Clint asked. Natasha sighed.

"We're not getting anywhere. Maria only has two leads and they go in opposite directions. I'm gonna lead a team to one point, and she to the other. We've got different extraction points and a few days to get there. Hopefully we'll find something soon."

"I miss you," he blurted out. There was a beat of silence, and then, as if forbidden, Natasha whispered

"I miss you too." He smiled and relaxed into the couch.

"When are you coming home?"

"I don't know. If my team hits the right spot, then by sunday."

"Four days?"

"Or more. If Maria's team hits the right spot, we'll need to move fast." He sighed.

"Yeah, alright." Natasha was quiet for a second.

"You're not in your bedroom, are you?" she asked, and Clint squinted.

"No..."

"Get there. Fast," she murmured and arousal shot down his spine at those words and their promises.

"Oh fuck yeah, gimme a sec," he breathed and stood up so quick he nearly tumbled over the table in front of him.

\---

When Natasha hung up, Clint was pleasantly buzzing, and he decided he really needed a shower.

With his boxers and t-shirt and a happy smile on, he crept over to the bathroom. He suddenly recognized the sounds of the shower being on, and took a glance at Emma's door. It was closed.

"Jarvis? Who's in the shower?" he asked carefully.

"Miss Emma, Agent," Jarvis said, a tinge of worry in his tone.

"Is she showering?"

"She's seated on the shower floor, Agent." His smile was gone now.

"Jarvis, is she actually showering?" he pressed.

"I believe not."

"Open the fucking door."

He heard the click of the lock being opened, and pressed the door open, only to be faced with a drenched Emma. She was huddled on the floor, a small little lump with wet pjs sitting right under the showerhead. She was curled up and her usually so bright red hair was dark and heavy with water.

"Emma?" he said, but she didn't look up, she just shifted a little under what looked to be ice cold water. She was nearly shaking. Clint stepped into the big shower, and pulled the door closed again, wincing at the cold of the water.

It was fucking freezing, and now that he was closer he noticed the tiny trembles of her body, the tiny little shakes and how white her knuckles were, her fingers clamped around her knees.

He turned the water up a little, so that she wasn't sitting there giving herself a cold, or worse, a goddamn frostbite, and sat down on his heels.

"Emma, sweetheart? Can you look at me? It's just me, Clint," he said softly, not wanting to touch her in case of his head getting blown up. Slowly, green-blue-grey orbs found him, a little dazed. _Of course_ , he thought, _of course the world couldn't let any of them be happy for long_. "It's okay, sweetheart. Wanna come out from the shower?" She shook her head a little. "Okay. Can I sit with you?" Her eyes flicked to the ground, and she nodded a little. "Thank you."

He sat down next to her in the water, getting his boxers soaked and his shirt too. Meh, that'd been, ish, the initial goal anyways.

It took a little while, but then Emma shifted her weight and her head rested against his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers.

"Wanna talk about it?" Clint asked. Emma didn't reply for a while.

"They... I tortured a full grown man at nine years old. I tortured him until he screamed so loud that I had to put a muzzle on him. I did that to an innocent man." Her fingers stopped clutching herself, and she brought them up for inspection underneath the spray. They were still white from the cold, but she had almost stopped shivering.

She rubbed her palms against her legs, as if to wipe off something that wasn't there, and the gesture nearly broke Clint's heart.

"Hey, what they made you do doesn't matter now. You don't do that anymore. That isn't you anymore. You wouldn't have done it if you had known better." He gently took her hands in his, and noticed how tiny and pale they looked in comparison to his, tanned and big and calloused. Clint sighed and wrapped an arm over her shoulders. "For Gods sake, sweetie... You're just a kid. You don't need to worry about this yet. Worry about it when you're as old as me and you're one of those people who are most likely going to die from a caffeine overdose by the time you're 45." Emma made a little hick-up sound that sounded like a laugh, and Clint smiled into her hair.

"That sounds an awful lot like you," she pointed out, and he smirked.

"Well, I'm thinking Tony'll beat me to the death by caffeine thing," he said, rocking them a little. He needed to get Emma into some dry clothes, ASAP. "Come on. Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

Emma conceded, and he dragged her out of the shower and held up a towel as she peeled her wet clothes off with a gross sound. He wrapped her up in the huge white towel, and ruffled her hair with it, earning a squeak from Emma that had him grinning. Cute as a button.

"Alright cutie," he said, grabbing the little towel burrito and slinging her over his shoulder, earning another squeak of protest, that pretty soon turned into giggling as he walked into Natasha's bedroom, because fuck, he was being needy, and it would give Emma the added comfort of Natasha's bed.

He threw her on Natasha's bed and grabbed one of his t-shirts that was currently Natasha's, and threw it in Emma's general direction.

"We're sleeping in here," he declared, and Emma gave him a small little smile from behind the towel.

"Okay," she said, her voice small. He nodded in affirmative and went off to grab his own towel and dry boxers.

With everything settled, he and Lucky made their way into Natasha's room. He tossed Emma her pillow and a pair of undies, and found that she'd pulled the t-shirt on, drying her hair with her towel.

They settled quietly on the bed, and Emma curled up with Lucky next to her, running her hand through his soft fur.

"Lucky's getting kinda fat," she said into the silence of the room, and Clint snorted loudly with his face pressed into his pillow. He was spread-eagle on his front, and Emma was to his left.

"More of him to love," he muttered. Emma actually snickered.

"Yeah. We should make sure Steve takes him out for runs. Lucky loves Steve and running, and Steve loves Lucky and running; it's a match made in heaven," she mumbled. Clint chuckled and gave her hair a pet.

"We'll talk to Steve about it tomorrow. I'm sure he'd love to. Sleep now."

It didn't take that long for Emma to fall asleep, her breaths becoming even. Clint didn't let himself sleep until she was still and calm. Then he let himself close his eyes, and breathe in the scent of Natasha's pillow, and fell asleep.

\---

Emma's first three days of school went splendidly. When she on Friday stepped into the PE hall, and saw Damian in shorts and a t-shirt instead of his usual button ups, she nearly fainted. 

He had pretty obvious muscles, more so than any of the other boys, and he looked pretty displeased with his surroundings. Emma was pretty sure she was going to drool if she didn't refocus, and he no doubt felt her glance. He was weird that way. He was pretty paranoid, to be honest.

Emma was always intrigued by dangerous people, she assumed. And Damian and his suspiciousness and brooding definitely screamed dangerous.

She walked over to him where he was by the wall, and he seemed to pull out of his brooding thoughts, sparing her a small smirk.

"Barton."

"Dami." She grinned at him. His smirk turned into a scowl that Emma saw right through. He was like that, he pretended he didn't like endearments, like how Layla kept calling him "darling" or "honey", which she did all the time. Emma had earned her own term of endearment, 'sparkles', and she knew that Damian was bullshitting them when he scowled at his own nickname. Emma just liked the way he'd roll his eyes when they called him Dami. "You're pretty buff."

Ah yes, great. Smooth. Just the smoothest. Tony would pat her on the back.

Damian scoffed.

"I should hope so. I do train a lot."

"What do you train?" Emma asked, immediately intrigued. She could talk about sports without fucking up that much.

"Hm. I sparr with my brothers a lot," he conceded. Emma hummed. "I'm the youngest, I must assert my dominance."

"Dominance?" Emma said, with a smirk. "Sounds like you're a chiuaua in a pack of great danes."

"I am not," he said, his brows furrowing. "I'm father's only real son. I deserve dominance. If anything, I'm the great dane and they're the chiuauas."

"Your brothers are adopted, right?" Emma said. Damian nodded. "Hey, I am too. What a funny coincidence." Her tone betrayed just how funny she thought it was. His eyebrows raised just a smidge, but he quickly schooled his face into a more neutral expression.

"Is that so."

"Yeah. Does that make me less my parents child?" He huffed.

"Please, Barton, do not mistake this to be about you." Emma squinted at him.

"Better not be. I'll smear your face on the floor."

"That's awfully crude of you."

"I'm a pretty violent person." Damian's smirk returned. "Fight me." Now it was all teasing again.

"No."

"I could beat you," she said.

"I do not doubt your abilities, I merely say no because class is beginning."

Turns out, Damian in action was even more mesmerizing than the sight of him in a tight t-shirt.

\---

Sunday night, Clint received a text from Natasha that said

_Not coming home yet. Kiss Emma and Lucky for me ;)_

Clint sulked a little, but Emma's second week of school was about to start and he didn't need to sully it unless she asked. She was talking to Bucky everyday, and he and Darcy were getting along quite fine. He was very comfortable around her, even laughed softly, and that just made Emma happier.

It was Thursday after school when Tony got a phone call from Darcy. He and Emma were sitting in the kitchen, messing around with a hologram of a new prototype of Tony's, one pretty basic new phone. A picture popped up, a picture of Darcy with her hair in almost braids, with Thor's fingers still in her hair.

"Hey Darcy," Tony said. "What's up?"

"Stark!" came Bucky's hurried voice on the other side.

"Barnes," Tony said, raising his eyebrows. "What can I do for you?"

"Yeah, funny story actually, we've been targeted, we had a little run in some guys trying to kill us, and one of them might be a little dead, and a few others can be seriously injured. Oh yeah, and I'm shot and no one can pick the bullet out," came an unusual drawl from the other side. It was still Bucky talking.

"Holy shit, Buck, are you okay?!" Emma exclaimed.

"Yeah. Didn't hit that big of an artery."

"I am going to _strangle_ you! Hand the phone over to Darcy!"

"She's got blood on her hands."

"So!" There was some shuffling. "Tony, call Steve and get him on one of those hover things!"

"Already on it," Tony supplied as he waved a phone at her, saying that it was calling.

"Emma?" Darcy sounded a little panicked.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked quickly.

"Uh... Yeah... James literally took a bullet for me. Saved my ass before I tasered another guy. We're the best partners in, well, saving people. Not crime. Ish-crime."

"Are you okay?" Emma asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. James on the other hand..."

"How bad is it?"

"He said he's had worse..."

"And?" Emma said, distantly hearing Tony trying to calm Steve down.

"Uh. I don't wanna know how much worse he's had," she said, and gave a shaky laugh.

"Darcy, breathe," Emma said, in a calming tone, and she heard Darcy swallow hard.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. He got shot in the leg, and I don't want him to bleed out or anything, but I tried to put pressure on it and he ripped a part of his shirt off and used it to stop the bloodflow."

"Holy shit..." Emma breathed. "Tony, how quick can you get Steve there?"

"In about an hour," he replied. "Barton should go with him."

"Wait, whoa whoa whoa," Emma said, waving her hands. "Don't confuse me. Say Clint or some other archery nickname, because now I'm Barton to like 80% of my friends."

"Seriously?" Tony said with an eyebrow raise. "You think I'd send you with Steve?"

"I didn't think you'd send Steve in the first place."

"Well, I'm not going, and maybe Clint shouldn't go either, now that you mention it," he said. "No, Steve, go. Jarvis, set the coordinates for Jane and Darcy's current residence."

"We're not there. We're in an abandoned building outside of town. If they know how to do their jobs, they'll be looking for us. We're going to move position in about twenty minutes," Bucky said. Darcy's faint protests were heard, something like 'you're hurt', but Bucky didn't acknowledge her.

"Copy that. If you move again before the hour is up, shoot Steve a text." Bucky sucked his breath in through his teeth sharply.

"Ngh- texting is out of the question, they somehow got a reader bug on Darcy's phone- shit!" There was some cursing and then Bucky made a strangled noise. "Yeah, get Stevie's ass over here as soon as humanly possible."

"On it, hang tight," he said and dropped the call. He pressed his phone to his ear as he brought a quinjet model up, pressed a few air buttons. "Steve? Sit down and strap in. You've got a bone rattling journey ahead of you."

\---


	41. Returns And Death Marches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER EARLY UPDATE because I'm shit at keeping schedules.  
> This chapter is super long for no other reason than that where I was gonna end it made it too short and then I just gave up with keeping it short.  
> *WARNING*  
> my friend made me tell you guys that there's some kinda bloody stuff in this chapter and if that makes you feel queasy, I advise you to skip those parts.  
> It's not that bad, it's just there

 

Steve found Bucky, Jane, Darcy, and a pretty terrified Ian, in an abandoned house, withering away in the desert. Bucky was biting down on a belt as he picked a bullet out of his leg. Ian was puking in the corner, Jane was rubbing his back, and Darcy had her eye's clenched shut, probably not trying to cry.

But Bucky?

Bucky was all grace and ease. He was used to this. He'd been stitching himself up for ages.

"Hi Steve," Darcy said, her eyes still shut tightly. Her hands were dark with Bucky's blood, but she was still next to Bucky, pressing her side to his in a way of comforting him. Not that he needed comforting usually. It was confusing to Steve as to how Bucky wasn't in full Winter Solider mode just because of the fact that they were being followed.

"Hi Darcy, what's the damage, Buck?" Steve asked quickly, getting down on his knee quick enough to see Bucky do the last stitch. Bucky spat the gag out and took a breath.

"I'm good. You can look now, Darcy," he said distantly. "Probably only three people trying to track us down. Probably already trashed their place." Jane groaned ruefully.

"My research..." she whined.

"Uh, actually... You don't remember?" Darcy said, opening her eyes to look at Jane. "Dude, Tony said he'd keep our files safe from Shield. When you save, you basically save it to Tony's database too. It's there too."

"But my notes!" Jane whined, less protesting and more wide-eyed now though. Darcy kicked her bag, with a pointed look.

"I'm actually the best friend ever," she declared, and Jane gave out a squeak and pulled her into a hug.

"You are. The Best. Ever." She punctuated her statement with a loud kiss to Darcy's forehead. Darcy laughed.

"Hell yeah I am!" She glanced over at Ian, still panting as he leant against the wall. "Hey, dude, you okay?"

He wiped his mouth and turned around, nodding, but he was still pale as a sheet. Steve flung Bucky's arm over his shoulders, and he was about to protest, but Steve shot him a look that said was just "don't" liquified.

"I know how to walk, Steve," Bucky pointed out, but it was all bark and no bite. Steve rejoiced in it.

"I know you do Buck, but you made some pretty good stitches there. Wouldn't wanna rip 'em," he said as he lead Bucky out of the abandoned house with Darcy and Jane leading Ian out after them.

The quinjet was there waiting for them, and Bucky hummed.

"Swanky," he decided. Steve nearly tripped on his own feet.

" _Swanky_?"

"Swanky." Steve laughed as he sat Bucky down.

"You've been in a quinjet before," he pointed out as Ian was handed a bag in case he was going to hurl again.

"Yeah, I know. Been too nervous or focused to think about them. They're ritzy." Steve laughed again. Ian cleared his throat.

"Hey, do I have to come with you guys?" Ian asked, his voice weak. Bucky raised his eyebrows a smidge.

"There are at least three assassins out there, probably to get me, and you by association. Do you want to stay?" he asked, his tone implying that Ian was stupid. Darcy took Bucky's hand, the metal one, and intertwined their fingers.

Ian just shook his head, growing pale once again, and Jane patted his shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting manner. Then she snapped to attention and started whispering ' _of course_!' like she'd just solved the meaning of life. She grabbed Darcy's bag and began rifling through it, grabbing a pen and began scribbling furiously in a notebook.

Bucky was used to Jane's outbursts of understanding by now, but it took Steve a bit by surprise. Bucky was actually a little excited to be going back to Emma. He'd missed her. Alright, little was mild. The kid was a little ray of sunshine, and he wanted to see her. So what?

"Tony? Hi, yeah, we're all loaded up. Ian, Darcy, Jane, and Bucky. Nope. Uh huh. Get us home please?" Steve said into a phone, and collapsed into the pilot's chair. "Thank you. Love you too. See you in a few hours."

Steve was smiling when he rubbed his eyes, slumping further into the chair.

"Alright, buckle up. We're going to the tower."

\---

When the quinjet landed on it's landing pad, the current residents of the tower were all standing there. Clint had a hand on Emma's shoulder, and she was biting her thumb nervously, and Bruce had his first aid kit in hand.

With his amped healing, Bucky would be okay in a few weeks, instead of possible months. He did have a knack for ignoring pain, so he was walking on his own now, even though Steve was walking right next to him, ready to at any moment step in and help his friend.

The screech that left Emmas throat was barely human as she pulled out Clint's grip and ran over to Bucky, only to be greeted with barely contained enthusiasm. She nearly made him topple over with the force of her hug, and Bucky hugged her right back, chuckling into her hair.

Darcy and Jane were greeted with hugs, and Emma even hugged Ian, who looked awkward but patted her head anyways. Bucky was shuffled off with Bruce and Jane followed, wanting to catch up with her scientist friend, and Ian followed her like a lost puppy.

Steve greeted Tony and Peter with a kiss, and led them inside, along with Emma who was bouncing with excitement.

That left Clint and Darcy, on the roof. Clint always liked Darcy, she was a good drinking buddy and liked placing bets and snark. He knew her well enough to notice when she wasn't alright.

Her eyes were slightly dazed, and her look kept flicking to her hands, that were red with drying blood. Ah hell.

"Hey Darcy," he said mildly, and took her by the elbow, started leading her towards the elevator. "Let's go wash up."

Clint took her down to the common floor, and grabbed a cloth from a cabinet, soaked it in warm water.

"I'm gonna wash your hands. Okay?" He got a slight nod from Darcy as he took her hands in his, and began washing the blood off of them. When he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed a dry cloth and began drying them.

Darcy fought tears as she watched her hands, and Clint just wiped them clean. She made a choked sound that sounded like a sob, and he sighed quietly, wrapping her up in his arms.

"Yeah, there we go, let it out," he mumbled, hugging her tightly as she sobbed into his chest. He knew exactly what it was like to have someone you love's blood on your hands. Literally and figuratively.

He hugged her until Bucky and Bruce came in, Bruce's eyes watching Bucky's leg intently. Bucky gave Clint a slightly puzzled look, and Clint carefully let go of Darcy and spun her around.

"He's fine. See? He's okay," Clint said, and pure shock washed over Bucky for a few seconds. He took the distance in-between them in three strides, and pulled her into an embrace, tilting her chin up to meet his.

That's when Clint and Bruce got to witness Darcy and Bucky's first kiss.

One of those cute, chaste kisses that you don't see nearly enough of in movies. His real hand went to her jaw and his metallic one to her hip, and she buried one hand in his hair and placed the other on his chest and kissed him. It was a reassurance, a way of saying 'please be okay'.

Suddenly, Clint ached to find Natasha and kiss her the same way.

Very suddenly, he realized he hadn't heard from her in days.

Even more suddenly, he was struck by a bone deep feeling that something was horribly horribly wrong.

\---

Clint was far from stupid. He knew that just feeling that something was wrong didn't always mean that something _was_ wrong. But he kept feeling it, the gnawing feeling that something wasn't right, and he kept glancing at his phone to see if Natasha had texted him or called him for the next two days.

He nearly threw his phone into the wall when he got a text and it was from Kate and not from Natasha. She wanted to steal Lucky and Emma for the day. He texted back an okay and slid out into their floor's living room. 

Emma was laying on the floor by the couches, her tippy toes pressed into the carpet by her head, and her phone in her hands, texting. It made Clint think of Natasha again, and he swallowed down the urge to just call her. He knew how fatal that could be.

"Are you talking to Kate right now?" he asked. Emma hummed in confirmation. He knew she was worried about Natasha too. "So you know she wants to steal you for the day?"

"Yeah. Can she?"

"You could have gotten up and walked literally ten feet to my door, Em."

"What can I say, I'm a lazy fucker." That made him crack a smile.

"She can steal you for the day, Lucky needs to go outside anyways. I've got some Shield stuff I have to do. I dunno if I'll be back for dinner," he said. She got up, and walked over to him with a bounce in her step.

"Okay!" she said happily and hugged him. He hugged her back, and kissed her forehead. She ran into her room to get out of her sweats, and he grabbed a jacket to go outside.

It was getting colder already, the sun the only thing warming his back as he walked to Shield. He could've hotwired any one of Tony's cars, but it was an okay day, not too warm and not too cold. A walk was good for him.

He said hello to some agents on his way to Coulson's office, and knocked.

"Who is it?" came Phil's voice from the inside.

"Agent Barton," Clint called back.

"Come on in," he said, and Clint opened the door, slid in and closed the door behind him.

Phil was sat behind his desk, and offered him a tired smile.

"Hello Agent Barton. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just felt like checking in," Clint said with a reassuring smile. Phil's face dropped.

"You're here about Agent Romanoff." Clint sighed and sank into a chair.

"Yeah," he said honestly, running a hand through his hair. Coulson's mouth turned into a thin line.

"Well, then I have some bad news..."

\---

"You lost track of her," Clint repeated for the nth time, reminding himself to breathe because, _fucking seriously?_   He and Natasha had literally just gotten together and he'd been able to finally let loose that restraint he'd had concering proximity, and _Shield loses track of her?_

"We didn't lose track of her, she and her team never showed up to their extraction point," Coulson said calmly. Clint's fingers drummed on his leg.

"Send me out there."

"No," Coulson responded without missing a beat.

"Why not?" Clint asked harshly and stood up abrubtly.

"Because you're emotionally compromised. The only reason I'm telling you this is because of your current living arrangements, and that Agent Romanoff is your adopted child's second guardian. This is actually confidential information, Agent Barton."

"Get me to Nat or I'll get there myself," Clint said, locking eyes with Coulson. Coulson's neutral demeanor fell, and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I'm worried too, Barton, but she's good. If anyone can keep her team alive until we find them, it's her."

"Please, Phil," Clint nearly begged, and he was so proud of himself for his voice not cracking. "Please just... Tell me where she was supposed to be extracted."

Coulson took a long look at him, and then sighed, pushed a file on the ground. Clint's stomach fluttered, and he picked it up, caught a glance of a familiar name. He nearly laughed out loud.

"Here you go, Agent Coulson," Clint said, and signed 'thank you' at him with a greatful look. Coulson waved him off.

"Thank you Agent Barton. We won't be needing you anymore for the week."

"Right. See ya, Phil," he said, turning aroung to walk out of the office.

"Be careful," Coulson said, and Clint nodded solemnly before making his way out of the building.

Outside, he pulled his phone out, and called Tony.

"How's it going, Merida? I was just gonna-" came Tony's drawl from the other side.

"I need to borrow a quinjet," Clint cut him off, already mentally packing.

"Oh? Where're you going?" Tony asked, surprised. Clint gave out a huff of a laugh.

"Budapest."

\---

"What're you doing?" Emma asked. He heaved his new arrowheads into his quiver.

"I'm going to get Natasha." Clint was met by silence. He pressed another pair of Shield pants into his bag.

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know." Emma nodded slowly, taking a breath.

"I guess if you don't come back, Steve and Tony could always take me in?" she said, in an attempt at humor. There was a tremble to her voice, and Clint turned to find her jaw clenched tight and her arms crossed. Her nails were digging into the flesh of her upper arms.

"Oh, sweetie," Clint said softly, waving for her to come over. She did, slowly, and he wrapped her up in his arms. "We'll be back. Promise I won't let you down. We'll come back."

"Pinkie promise?"

"Pinkie promise," he nodded seriously, and Emma sniffled into his flannel shirt. "And for gods sake, don't let Steve and Tony take you in. Bruce should be your go-to extra parent." Emma laughed silently into his chest, and he smiled. 

"He does surprisingly seem like the most morally suited to be my extra parent." Clint rubbed her back comfortingly. 

"We'll come back," he promised again, and Emma nodded gingerly, clutching his shirt a little tighter. 

Gently, he pried himself out of her grip, and grabbed his bag to sling it over his shoulder, and swung his quiver over his other shoulder. He grasped his bow in his one hand, and Emma took his free hand before he could even offer it. 

They made their way to the roof, where Bucky, Bruce and Tony were standing by the quinjet. Bruce was still eyeing Bucky's leg from time to time, but Bucky didn't seem to mind.

Clint got a pat on the back from Tony, who looked him dead in the eyes and said quietly, so that the others wouldn't hear:

"You break this little girl's heart by not coming back, and I will find your dead body and do unspeakably horrible things to it."

Clint nodded with a half smile. He'd recieved worse threats, but it warmed him up that if he didn't come back, Emma would be in good hands. Tony wasn't always the most responsible, but he cared about everyone more than he put on. A _lot_ more than he put on.

Bucky gave him a glance.

" **Find Romanov and get home alive** ," he muttered in Russian. Clint nodded.

" **I will. Take care**." Bucky lowered his head in a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Please don't die," was Bruce slightly exasperated goodbye. Clint chuckled.

"I'll try my best." Bruce gave him a little half smile, and Emma hugged him tightly again. He returned the sentiment, and gave her hair a quick kiss.

"I won't be gone long! Promise!" he called as he jogged over the lowered latch. Bucky had a hand around Emma's shoulders, because she seriously looked like she was gonna run after him at any second.

She bit her lip as he walked into the quinjet, the engines firing up already. Then Emma yelled something after him.

"Bye dad!" she called, and his world slowed to a stop for a second. Then he numbly raised his hand.

"Bye sweetie!" Clint called back, and he could see her smile in his mind as the latch closed, and he was staring into nothing as the quinjet began to rise. Clint gave out a bark of a laugh, and ran a hand over his face.

Then he shoved his stuff under one of the bunks, and told Jarvis to wake him up when he got to Europe.

Those few hours of sleep would prove to be vital.

\---

Natasha steeled herself. This was going to hurt like hell. She grabbed the metal with her bare hands, her wrist was definitely fractured, and pushed with a loud scream. The metal gave way, and she nearly fell through the opening it created. 

"Daniels, Moore, bring Jackson through," she snapped. They obeyed, Daniels crawling through after Natasha to help Moore drag Jackson through. Connor Jackson wasn't by any means a small man, he was buff and heavy as a shit ton of bricks, but Daniels was strong, very strong, and Moore had his size on his side.

All in all, Natasha was the shortest of them all and it was kind of getting to her. They'd been stuck in this fucking maze for days, and supplies were running low. Thank god Ramona Daniels was a smart woman who knew how to survive well enough for all of them.

The maze they were captured in was made of metal and it was dark and smelled of rust. Natasha hadn't eaten a full meal in a total of seventy-two hours, which meant that they had been stuck in here for about sixty-seven hours. Great. Math never failed to disappoint her.

Daniels slung Jackson's arm over her shoulder, and he groaned in pain. Booby traps were everywhere, and they'd already lost three members of their original party to them. It was just dead weight to drag their bodies with them, and one of them had looked so utterly wrecked it wasn't even a body anymore, just a pile of human remains.

Jackson had been lucky, the dart that tried to get him had grazed his side, but without proper sterilization and clean needles, he might as well be dead. But Natasha didn't want to leave him behind, she wasn't gonna lose another one of them. She wasn't, she wasn't, she wasn't, _she wasn't_.

She got to walk first, as both leader of the group and the lightest on her feet, and because she knew how to trip alarms without getting caught in them.

They rounded a corner, and Natasha squinted at the walls. She couldn't see any actual sensors or tiny holes for darts, but she still let her eyes roam over the entire hall. It was dimly lit by shitty lights, and the corridors were narrow, rusty, with too high walls to see anything but darkness up there. Not even taking into the account that they were way too small for her comfort, but damn if she was going to break now.

Natasha's body wasn't struggling as much as the others' were. But enhancements only got you so far, and if Natasha was exhausted by now, she could only imagine how her companions felt. But no one whined, the only occasional grunt coming from Jackson.

"We stop here," she said calmly, pointing to the corner which they had just walked around. They camped in corners when the exhaustion became too much. Daniels helped Jackson sit down, and Natasha noticed how Jackson was bleeding again.

With a huff, she grabbed her boot knife, the one time she's not allowed to have her catsuit on she actually needs it, and sliced a shred of her shirt off. It wasn't as clean as it should be, but it was clean enough, and she bent down and pressed it carefully to his wound. He hissed, but nodded a thanks. These were trained agents, good ones, ones Maria trusted. 

"I take the first watch. You guys sleep," she said quietly.

"You sure? You haven't slept in at least 19 hours," Daniels said wearily. It was her job to keep track of them all now. Natasha ran a hand through her messy hair.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Daniels nodded, and then promptly sat her down by the wall. "I'm fine," she snapped, but Daniels didn't relent.

"Please, Romanoff. You're no use to us sleepdeprived and careless." Natasha fought the urge to snap at her again, tell her that she had made it longer without sleep. But in her mind as she reeled in arugments, she realized how childish she sounded, and decided against it. Instead she sighed, and closed her eyes.

The metal walls behind her were cold and unrelenting, not allowing her body comfort. That didn't stop her from falling asleep pretty quickly.

 

_"Tasha, look!" Natasha heard Emma call from the brightness that was slowly taking shape around her._

_I_ _t was the livingroom on her floor in the tower, and Emma was doing a hand stand on the white carpet. Her red hair was shining from the sun filtering in through the windows, and she was laughing that cute giggly laugh she had laughed when Steve had grabbed her and spun her around during her two-months-living-with-them party._

_She was wearing a jumper that had slid down her stomach a little, the letters on it crinkled and unreadable. Her ridiculous socks had ears on them, and the face of a panda, and her tights went a little over her knees and were blue. Emma was a sight for sore eyes, and Natasha felt a wave of affection run through her._

_But then the scene changed, and it turned dark around her, until there was only a faint light in the middle of all the darkness. She heard a whimper of pain that sounded suspiciously like..._

_Natasha started running towards it, but her feet didn't bring her close enough fast enough, and the whimpers turned to screams and she couldn't hear him get hurt like this again, this wasn't how it went, she was supposed to find him, save him, he wasn't-_

 

Natasha was yanked out of her dream by Jackson's hoarse cry of pain. Her eyes snapped open to find Jackson in the middle of the damn fucking corridor she wasn't gonna make them go through yet.

The fact that he was impaled on roughly six harpoons only pissed her off further.

"Jackson!" she barked and saw Daniels and Moore shoot up from their places leaning on the wall too. He gave them all a weak smile, and then promptly dropped dead. Written on the floor, with blood like some damn horror flick, there was a message.

_Save yourselves_

What a cliché. Moore hissed 'fuck' under his breath.

And then, out of seven little piggies, only three were left.

\---

Natasha's last sighting had been in a town about 50 something away from actual Budapest, and Clint stopped there. It was by the Donau, with a huge church... thing... It was big anyways, and pretty intimidating. Natasha's signal had been last sent before they descended underground to follow someone suspicious. 

The only reason Clint even knew that much, was because of Tony's superiour hacking skills. He would have given Tony a kiss right on the mouth, had he been there in the flesh. But nope. He did have his comm tuned though, so that he could call on Tony for help at any time. 

Clint had also gotten a little friend with him.

He dropped down from the ladder into the darkness. He pressed the button on his glasses that made his surroundings green. Oh great. 

Where there was supposed to be a wall, there was nothing. Just a huge hole in the metallic wall. He walked closer carefully, and noticed the staining on the metal. That was definitely acid remnants. Ah fuck.

"Alright you creepy-looking spider thing," Clint said as he grabbed the little disk from underneath his quiver, giving it a swipe.

Immediately it sprung legs, and Clint had to hold back the shriek at the sudden motion. "Gah! Jesus fuck, okay... Uh, just... Do your thing." He put it down on the ground, and a blue sensor came out, lighting the dark, gaping wall.

It started off quickly, and Clint jogged after it, only to pretty quickly be alerted by a loud peep. The little robot thing had stopped in the middle of the hall, and Clint almost stepped over it, only to yelp loudly when he nearly flailed over an edge.

"Holy shit," he mumbled under his breath. Booby traps. Awesome. He picked the robot up, disliking the way it flailed with it's creepy little spider legs. "Stop! Shine brighter." The machine obeyed, and Clint turned his nightvision off, shining the robot's light down there.

He nearly threw up. 

An agent of Shield was there, a huge, Indiana Jones style spike right through his head, and his throat, and his chest, and further down, and further, and further, and so many of them...

"Holy  _shit_ ," Clint breathed again, closing his eyes briefly. Yeah, no, fuck that. "Let's hope you're as impervious as Tony said you were." Clint threw the little machine over the gap in the path, and it obediently took little to no damage as it landed, quickly getting back up and awaiting further commands. 

With a deep breath, he took a few steps back and charged, jumping gracefully and landing about as graceful as he could, rolling and standing up. "Alright you freaky little thing, go on."

The spider machine obeyed, and walked further into the dark maze. 

\---

After dodging about ninteen different boobytraps and finding another body, Clint was convinced that Natasha wasn't stupid enough to get killed by a booby trap. She had a knack for that, knowing where things dangerous were. She couldn't be dead. 

The little spider robot that Clint had come to call Peter 2.0 predicted every danger by scanning the walls and simultaniously keeping track of how far they'd gone and how the maze looked like. Because that was what it was, a maze, a labyrinth of traps and it was so Indiana Jones Clint had started humming the theme song.

The maze seemed to be made completely of metal, and no life signs had been picked up by Peter 2.0 yet. Traces of blood had though. It made him think for brief moments that Natasha was seriously injured, but he hoped and begged dearly to whatever deity he didn't believe in that she'd be okay when he found her. _When_ , mind you, _not if_.

Because Clint wouldn't accept that. Natasha Romanoff was not a woman who should die in a rusty old labyrinth. She was supposed to one day feel like she didn't have any red left in her ledger, and she would just fall asleep and never wake up again. 

Not here. Not today. Not in a long long time. 

Peter 2.0 beeped again, and Clint stopped, looking up at a poor excuse for human body hanging from a hook above him. It looked like it'd been fried extra crispy and then put out to be gnawned on by rodents.

"What sets it off, Pete?" he asked. The little robot scanned the surrounding area and showed him how it was built into the walls and floor. His eyebrows furrowed "How the hell did Nat get by this one?"

Peter 2.0 projected a lack of footsteps on the actual pressure plates. Natasha had seen her surroundings, and took a shot. He actually chuckled. She wasn't the best trained spy ever for nothing.

"Lead the way," he said. Peter 2.0 hopped away, and Clint followed his tiny footsteps. Now he was picking up the pace. 21 traps, 22, 23, 24, and it must've taken Nat hours to actually dodge most of the traps without Peter 2.0. It couldn't have been easy. 

Suddenly Peter 2.0 beeped again, but it beeped twice. Life signs. Clint felt his heart hammer in his chest as the robot's scan went to a wall, where 36 darts were lodged into the wall, in different heights and different widths apart. One of them had a stain of blood leading from it, or was it rust? Hard to tell down here. But then he saw a sliver of skin on the wall, attatched to the bleeding dart.

Clint threw an exploding disk onto what looked like a pressure pad. Natasha and her gang must have had to squeeze past on a minature ledge on the side. No wonder someone was struck. 

The disk set off a spray of darts, 12 of them to be exact, a spray of quick burts from right to left in no special pattern at all. He huffed. This was gonna be tricky.

He managed to throw Peter 2.0 over there pretty undamaged, but then was almost shot in the leg by a dart as he made it past. From the other side, he could see the sliver of skin attatched to the wall was almost yellow. Poison. 

 _Great_.

After what felt like hours in the damn labyrinth, he decided he needed a break. He sat down and nearly got his ass sawed in half. Thank god for Peter 2.0's beeps. 

After a little more walking, he realized corners were his only safe spot. In corners, there were usually no traps. He still had Peter 2.0 check it up to make sure he didn't accidentally kill himself by accidentally sitting on a pressure pad with a spike in it. Not the way he wanted to die. 

He ate something small and saved the rest for when he found Natasha and her hopefully still slightly intact team. 

Sleeping felt like a thing he didn't want to do, so he just had Peter 2.0 show him what distance he'd walked today and what his scans were picking up. And...

Holy shit on a stick

The place was _huge._  

Mind-blowingly huge. It looked like it stretched on for miles. How the hell were they ever going to make it out of here?

"Well, I can't say I could've planned this better," Clint said to Peter 2.0, because if he could talk to Dummy and You and Butterfingers, he could sure as hell talk to Peter 2.0. "Personally, this is about as prepared as I come."

Peter 2.0 didn't reply like Dummy or You would've, but Clint didn't mind. 

"We're gonna rest for like, five more minutes, and then we're off, because I'm only human and I need to rest my feet, but I wanna find Tasha as soon as humanly possible." 

He did just that, and with Peter 2.0, he came to his first crossroad. 

"Which way? Left or right? Do we flip a coin or can you see their footprints here?" Clint asked. Peter 2.0 scanned the area and beeped to the right and scanned the left without beeping. He still moved towards the right one. 

"I'm surprised and mildly confused, but I guess that whenever you meet enemies, or in this case, boobytraps, you're going the right way." Peter 2.0 scanned the area and showed Clint the six thin blades in the walls waiting to slice him to bits. "Ah hell."

He threw rather than shot an arrow through the doorway, and just as it was sliced to bits, he grabbed Peter 2.0 and rolled. The swords were retracting as he rolled, and they didn't have time to slice him. It was probably just great time and reflexes that saved him from losing a limb.

A few deep breaths, and then he was off again, with Peter 2.0 lighting the way. They came to a particularly rusty wall, where the metal had begun to curl upwards. Peter 2.0 beeped and Clint realized that the metal had been bent pretty recently, judging from the still pretty fresh, but dried, blood on the ground. 

"They've crawled through here? Jesus, they must be getting desperate," he muttered to himself. He shoved Peter 2.0 in there first, and after no beeping was heard, he shoved his quiver and bow through, then his bag, and then himself. 

It was a tight squeeze when it came to his shoulders, but he managed. Peter 2.0 was standing there patiently, and Clint took in the corner where he was now sat. Apparently Natasha had understood that corners were safe too, because there were large spots where dust had been swept away, and a slice of fabric stained with blood. 

A small bit further down the hallway, where the tiny robot was currently casting his light, there was another trap, one that had been set off.

Pretty recently, probably, judging from the fact that the body that had triggered it, still had his eyes open and was still losing blood. The text written in blood before the trap made his skin itch a little. 

_Save yourself_

No matter how many times he'd heard that, seen it, even said it, it still made him a little uncomfortable to see like this.

"Oh god, is that Jackson?" he said to no one in particular, but Peter 2.0 replied anyways, by running his face through the Shield database. It confirmed Clint's suspicion, and Clint heaved a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "Christ..." 

He realized there was no way to the other side of the trap without being stabbed by harpoons than... Literally over Jackson's dead body. Clint hadn't personally known Jackson that well, but from what he'd heard, he was a good guy, good at what he did. Too bad he had to go down this way.

Clint cralwed, whispering sorry as he went, because Jackson had been a hood guy, probably the most injured one, and Natasha wasn't the agent who accepted her team mates as casualties anymore. She didn't want more red in her ledger than she already had. So, since she wouldn't have offed him, he had probably offed himself.

He and Peter 2.0 had to go through four more traps before they found sign of life.

Clint heard wild Russian cursing, and his heart nearly stopped in his chest, because that was _Natasha cursing_. 

"Peter, light it up," he said, and Peter turned on what seemed like frickin' headlights, but when the initial blindness had gone down, he could make out a mess of red hair.

"Natasha?" he called. He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Clint?!" He was just about to run over to her when she yelled "Wait!" He froze on the spot, and heard Peter 2.0 beeping.

"Seriously? A trap here too?" Clint groaned. Natasha was bleeding from a cut in her shoulder, but the two other agents seemed fine.

"What's that thing?" she asked a little breathlessly. 

"Stark's invention. I've named him Peter 2.0," he said. Peter showed him a scan of the trap. Yikes. That's a lotta knives. "He scans the area for traps and helps me through them. Might be the only reason I'm alive right now."

Natasha scoffed. She was dirty and her her Shield issued pants were singed, she was holding her hand close to her body so he could only assume it was hurt somehow, and the cut in her shoulder was still bleeding, very new actually.

"How did you get through?" he asked. 

"Jumped," Natasha said. "The motion sensor is further down." He nodded and gestured to her shoulder, signing a 'how'. "I have shorter legs than these two. Accidentally activated it with my last step."

"Right..." Clint took a deep breath and grabbed Peter 2.0. "Catch."

Natasha caught the squirming spider machine, and Clint took a deep breath. He took a few steps back, and then he surged forward, touched ground on the other side, and rolled in the last second.

Twenty knives sliced into the air where he'd just been, and he didn't spare them a second glance, just stood up and walked right up to Natasha. She hugged him hard, and he hugged her just as tight back.

"Thank god you're okay," he mumbled, and she just nodded with her face tucked into his neck. He smelled like sweat and rust but there was than underlying smell of bow grease and his soap that made her feel like she wasn't stuck in the dark in a labyrinth, but home in her bed.

Or maybe Clint was just home to her.

The thought struck her uninvited, and she pulled away from him, only to have him refocus on her wound.

"Let's patch you guys up, maybe make up a plan on how to get out of here?" Clint suggested. Natasha, Daniels, and Moore nodded.

And suddenly it didn't feel like they were marching to their deaths anymore.

\---

 


	42. Punches And Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually keeping to the schedule now. Hell ye  
> Enjoy this chapter!<3

 

For Emma to get to stay in school, there were a few rules. Clint and Natasha most probably talked to Bruce, Pepper, and Steve to manage these rules.

1\. Don't get into trouble.

2\. Call Natasha or Clint if you do (note: not Tony)

3\. Don't do stupid things to impress people.

4\. Don't use your super powers, and if you do, immediately call an Avenger(specifically an Avenger. Sadly enough, Bucky wasn't a full fledged Avenger, and was therefore not anyone she was allowed to call. He'd probably just help her hide the body.)

5\. If it get's too hard, no quitting.

Currently, Emma was breaking rule number one, and was obligated to break number two. Her fist hurt, but she was fine with the ice-pack that was slowly moulding into the shape of her knuckles.

The principal opened the door to his office, and the eight grade boy stepped out with his parents. Emma just smiled at him, her smile sweet and poisonous. Yeah. He wouldn't want to mess with her again. 

She loved school.

The principal waved her over, and she walked into his office.

His walls were grey and shitty, and the desk was a shiny brown, with multiple 'fun' items that were only there so that he wouldn't think about what a dead-end job he had. His ugly ass walls were littered with diplomas and things to make him feel smarter than the other person in the room, make him feel superior.

The fact that she was sitting in a plastic chair and he was sitting in a leather chair may have been another thing to add to the fact that he was trying to use his not-so-scary frame to his advantage, and it wasn't doing him any good.

"So, Emily," Mr. Breinburn began.

"It's Emma," she said, using her cold voice, proving that she was not taking any shit from him. Sadly enough, he didn't look very put off.

"Emma, right, I'm sorry," he said, leaning forward on his desk. "What happened?"

"He got too close to me, and I punched him," she said simply.

"Uh huh. And have you met this boy before?" he asked, obviously thinking this was all her fault.

"Nope. He just started picking on me for no reason, and I punched him."

"You realize I'm going to have to call your parents, right?" he said, and looked slightly confused as too why she wasn't reacting normally. Hey, if she was panicking, he would have his head blown up. She didn't have the time to be scared. Or the need. She'd had so much worse over the years.

"Ah, but do you have their number? I'm not sure you do," Emma said, smiling sweetly at him. She grabbed a pen off his desk, and grabbed a piece of paper randomly from his desk, scribbling a number down. "Call this number."

Mr. Breinburn looked conflicted, but after looking her up in the schools database, he realized that he did not have her parents number ( _surprise surprise_ ) and decided to call the number she had given him. He put it on speaker and gave her a practiced disappointed look.

Jarvis answered after two beeps.

"Stark residence, may I ask how you aquired this number?" his cool voice was heard over the speaker-phone.

"Hi Jarvis!" Emma said happily, and the principal was growing pale.

"Emma. How do you require my assistance?" Jarvis asked. Ah. What a cutie.

"I'm kind of in a pickle here, Clint and Nat are still...out, right?"

"Yes," Jarvis agreed. Emma had a quick bright flash of an idea.

"Is Tony in?" she asked.

"Sir is in his workshop," Jarvis offered, obviously sensing that he was on speaker. The principal was rendered speechless.

"You think he can come get me? I'm pretty sure I'm going to get expelled," she said thoughtfully. Jarvis was silent for a while.

"I believe Sir has just finished his project and should be able to arrive in approximately two minutes."

"What? That's impossible with a-oh... Nevermind. Thanks Jay, love you," Emma said.

"You are most welcome," Jarvis responded, and Emma hung up for Mr. Breinburn, who seemed to be waking up from his state of shock.

"Tony.... Stark?" he asked, his voice squeaky. Emma leaned back in her chair.

"Yeah. That Tony."

Tony arrived in two and a half minutes, carrying a suitcase that Emma knew was his Iron Man suit. He was also wearing a grey suit and sunglasses as he walked in, looking very stylish.

"Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, ex playboy, philanthropist," Tony said, stretching his free hand out to the principal. The principal just stared at his hand, and Tony took it back. "Never mind then," he said, sitting down.

"Are-are you Emma's father?" Mr. Breinburn finally asked, regaining some of his composure.

"Hah! Imagine that, the press would be frothing with excitement. Sadly though, I am not her father, I'm her... Uncle?" He glanced over at Emma, who shrugged. "Yeah. Let's go with uncle. I'm her parents best friend, and they live in my tower with me."

"Our tower, come on," Emma said, scowling at him.

"Who designed it and built it?" Tony fired back. Emma hummed.

"Touché."

"U-uh, Emma got into a fight with another one of our students," Mr. Breinburn said. Wow, he was really powering through his fangirling over meeting Tony Stark, he was good.

"Oh? She did? What happened?" Tony asked, making a motion for Emma to stay silent.

"Well, his name is Eddie, he's in eight grade," the principal began. "He said that she punched him out of nowhere, and she claims that he was picking on her." Tony nodded solemnly.

"Emma, what happened?" he asked sternly, the same voice he used when he knew Peter had shoved something into his mouth that he shouldn't have in his mouth. Emma sighed.

"I don't know, I was just eating lunch, and this stupid guy and his friends came up to me and started calling me a 'fake-geek', just because I was wearing my Star Wars shirt, and I asked him why I was a 'fake' geek, and he said that girls don't like Star Wars, there's too much fighting, and I punched his sexist face," she seethed, crossing her arms.

Tony nodded slowly.

"Of course. Well, that concludes the responsible parent part. Here's a high-five, and your bedtime is never."

Yeah, that was totally why Emma liked to have Tony in serious situations.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Breinburn said carefully. Tony blinked.

"Right, does she get some kind of punishment or something?" he asked, already standing up. He really didn't like staying put for long.

"Yes, she is dismissed for the day and she has a slip that she needs her parents to sign. I guess you, as her uncle, can't sign it, as you are not her legal guardian."

"Oh. Well. Hand us that slip and we'll _slip_ out," Tony said. Emma stood up, letting the ice pack drop on the principal's desk.

"That was a really bad pun, Tony," Emma told him.

"So is saying 'God bless America' everytime Steve gets naked," he said as the principal handed him a yellow note. "Does that stop me from saying it? Not at all."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Emma said and took the slip the principal was holding out for Tony to take. "He doesn't like to be handed things." She winked at the principal, and Tony held the door open for her, and she waved at the principal before more or less skipping out of there. Tony signed her out, and they started walking off school grounds.

"Why didn't you take the car or something?" Emma asked as she threw the strap of her bag over her one shoulder.

"I was told there was an emergency," he shrugged.

"But you had time to dress properly?"

"You should always waste time when you don't have any."

"Was that a fucking Doctor Who quote?" Tony shot her an innocent look.

"What? No..."

"Sounded like one, Stark."

"Hey, I'm Uncle Tony, not Stark," he grinned at her. She rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for picking me up..." Emma said carefully. He shrugged.

"Romanoff will kill me, but she will murder you for beating a kid up. They'll have the standard 'punching people will not be tolerated in this family' talk-"

"That's hypocritical, they're _assassins_ ," Emma interjected.

"-and Steve will have a serious talk with me, but we'll be fine. Barton will probably secretly high five you. No biggie. We'll live."

"Where's Peter?" Emma asked.

"He's with Steve in the park," Tony said, and his phone began ringing. He pulled it out. "Speak of the devil." He accepted the video call. "Hi hot stuff, how's it going?"

"Hi Tony," came Steve's voice. "Are you... Are you outside? At this time of day?" 

"Oh, yeah, Emma's school called, say hi Emma," Tony said, and pointed the camera to her. She waved, and saw Steve's face on the screen. He was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, but they did nothing to hide the confusion in his baby blue eyes.

"Hi Emma. It's... It's only eleven-thirty, why are you out of school?" Steve asked.

"I punched a guy," Emma informed him, and Steve frowned back.

"Why?"

"He was being a dick."

"That's not a very valid reason to punch someone."

"He was being a _sexist_ dick." Steve was quiet for a few seconds.

"I see where you're coming from." He looked down, probably checking on Peter. "Tony, hand Emma the phone." Tony did as he was told, surprisingly, and Emma looked at Steve directly now. "We don't punch people," he said softly.

"Oh come on Steve, you know how hypocritical that is, right?" He didn't reply to that.

"You know Tony is not the one you call for school emergencies, right?" Steve said instead.

"Yeah, well, Nat and Clint are out of the country, Bucky would freak everybody out, Thor wouldn't get why I should be punished, Bruce would scold me endlessly, you would give me a speech about acting proper, and Jane and Darcy aren't close enough relatives. So, Tony it is," she said.

"You thought about all of those people, and _then_ me? I'm offended," Tony said, and Emma shrugged.

"I thought about the risks, man, and you come with the least damage." Steve sighed.

"You know Natasha and Clint won't be happy," he said, in that chastising tone, and Emma scowled.

"I know, I know, _God_ , Tony take the goddamned phone," she said and gave it to him. Tony took it, and smiled at his lovely fiancé.

"How's Peter?" he asked.

"Oh, he's... Not climbing around, and he's not shooting webs. He's being very calm. I don't think I've ever been so relieved."

"Let me see his face," Tony demanded, and Steve grinned as he angled the camera.

"Hey Peter! Look who it is," came Steve's soft voice, and Emma could see Tony's shoulders slump a little as he smiled at Peter. His smile turned soft and he chuckled.

"Hi Petey," he cooed softly. Emma felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

She had 16 messages.

"What the fu..." Before she could even finish the sentence, her phone started ringing. Layla. "What the fuck, Layla?" Emma said as she picked up.

"Did Iron Man literally just come pick you up?" came Layla's rushed voice on the other side. Ah crap.

"Uh... How can I convince you it was just someone in a knock-off suit?" she asked slowly, and Layla squealed.

"Seriously Em?! Are you one of his love-children?" she asked. Emma laughed out loud.

"Obviously," she said sarcastically.

"Then why did Tony friggin' Stark come pick you up!"

"Oh, well, my parents are out of state, and he's... A friend of theirs."

"Oh my god!" she hissed. There was a crumpling noise and Layla huffed. "Gonna call you back. Or you call me when school's out! And Hope!"

"Yeah yeah," Emma said with a loopsided grin.

"Dami say's hi!" Layla whispered and there was a distinct yelling going on in the background. Emma hung up and groaned.

"Why the suit, Tony?" she whined.

"Emergency?" he said as he pressed the phone to his ear, apparently calling Pepper.

"But _dude_! Now Layla think's I'm famous! She's gonna find out!"

"So?"

" _Tony!_ "

"Geeze, did Pepper teach you that tone? Because you sound a lot like Pepper right now." Emma tugged on her hair in frustration.

"This is gonna be a fucking pickle."

\---

After hours of walking around into sudden dead ends, Peter 2.0 made another beep. Moore groaned.

"What now?" he whined. They were all a little singed, nerves frayed and on point. Everyone was set on getting the hell out of here, asap.

Clint huffed.

"Show me, Pete," he said, and the spiderlike machine showed the huge map, signaling them forwards instead of left.

"If that thing leads us wrong one more time," Moore muttered.

"Then we'll make it back here and go the other way," Natasha said coldly. She trusted Starks capability in making useful things, such as this. Moore didn't protest again.

"So, we make a right here, and then... What?" Clint said to the machine slowly. There wasn't anything more on the map to the right.

"Is that the exit?" Natasha asked carefully. Clint looked down on how many miles they'd walked. 49,6. That's a long fucking way.

"Uh. Could be," he said carefully, not wanting to bring everybody's hopes up.

"We could just try it?" Daniels suggested helpfully. They all numbly started walking again, Natasha passing Clint a nearly empty water bottle. He took a sip and passed it back to her as they rounded a corner.

A huge door was there, metal locks and chained heavily, but it was a door, and it was everything they needed to see.

"Peter light it up! I've got acid arrows to burn the locks," Clint said urgently and moved forward, listening for the tell tale beep of a trap. But no beep came, and he was pressing the arrow into the lock before he knew it, stepping back as a loud fissing was heard.

It took three more arrows, and the last one was explosive, before the door creaked open just a little bit.

"Daniels, help me get this open!" Clint called joyously, and Daniels gladly helped him wrench the door open, until it gave out with a loud scraping noise.

The room behind the door was small, and there was a latch in the ceiling.

They'd done it.

Natasha pushed forward, she was the one who was leader of the group anyways, and with a practiced move, she got a boost from Clint and stood steadily on his shoulders as she forced the damned latch open, and the smell of fresh air hit her like a wave, and she took deep deep breaths as she used her uninjured hand and crawled up, with yet another boost from Clint.

And then she was shuddering in the cold night air in Budapest, with a fractured wrist and a hurt shoulder and a few burns and other cuts, and she couldn't help but say it.

"Just like last time, Budapest."

She heard a wry chuckle behind her and a grunt as Clint heaved himself up next to her. He took a deep breath, his eyes adjusting to the sudden new light of outside, even though it was thankfully night.

Clint helped Daniels and Moore up too, and they all collapsed on the ground in front of the hell-disguised-as-a-manhole behind them.

Giving Peter 2.0 a swipe, the legs retracted, and it turned into the disc it had been before. Clint kissed it loudly.

"Peter 2.0 will forever be in our hearts," he said with a smile, and Natasha wanted to punch him for his optimism at the same time as she wanted to hug him for it.

"Did Stark give you something to contact him with?" she mumbled as she started shaking. Clint grabbed the duffle and threw it at her.

"Yeah. Put a hoodie on, Romanoff. You're gonna chip your teeth if they keep chattering like that." She scowled at him, but a hoodie did sound nice, as she was still shaking, and she fumbled with the zipper a little before tearing a purple sweater out of there, and putting on. It was too big on her, and smelled like Clint, and Emma, and Lucky, and Natasha felt an ache in her chest as she burrowed in it, seeping up the warmth it provided.

"Stark? Stark, get off your fiancé and get your ass over to a computer!" he said as he pressed a finger to his ear. Moore and Daniels rifled through the bag too, finding Shield issued hoodies and blankets they'd used a few times under there. Clint was gonna burn those later.

"What, what?" Tony was suddenly heard, his voice breathy. "Barton? You okay?"

"Alive and kicking. Found Natasha too."

" _Holy shit_ , is she okay?" he asked, louder now.

"Yeah, she's fine. How long have I been gone?"

"Like, four and a half days, dude, I nearly thought we lost you." Tony sounded relieved now.

"Oh shit. Well, uh, tell the others' we're fine, especially Emma, and... We need someplace to sleep."

"How many of you are there?"

"Four. Me, Nat, Daniels, and Moore."

"Didn't seven of them go in? Excluding you?"

"Yeah," Clint said quietly, watching Natasha close her eyes as she leaned on her knees, her shoulders straightening. She wasn't letting her guard down yet.

"I'll fix you three rooms at a hotel nearby."

"Life saver," he groaned. Tony huffed, and there was a crash in the background.

"Dummy! Stop spraying Emma! She's not on fire!"

"Emma's there with you?" Clint asked, a little wide eyed.

"Yeah. I'll put her through once you and Romanoff finished fucking each others brains out post-mission and cleaned up. Hotel's on the right, walk into town like three hundred feet, turn left and then there's a nice hotel there. And try not to look suspicious!"

"Thank's Tony," Clint sighed as he rubbed a kink in his neck.

"No problem-o, Romeo."

Clint turned the comm off.

"Alright everybody, on your feet! We're gonna clean up and get some fucking sleep!"

\---

As soon as Clint and Natasha entered their shared room (because Daniels and Moore were trained agents, and their affection had been running a little wild during this fucking stressful mission), Natasha started stripping her tattered clothes methodically on her way to the shower. Clint watched her whilst trying not to make it super obvious, but Natasha knew, of course she noticed, and as she stood naked with her hand on the door frame, she tossed him a look.

"Not going to shower?" she asked with a pointedly raised eyebrow.

"No, I'm just gonna roll around in like four and a half days of dirt and sweat and grime like a pig," he said sarcastically, and she smiled, did a half shrug towards the shower.

"If you change your mind, the shower fits two," she replied and walked inside. Clint hastily got out of his clothes and joined her in the shower, wrapping his arms around her in a wet embrace.

She leaned against him with a tired sigh, and he grabbed the cheap hotel soap from the stand, and began lathering them both up.

They washed each other off with tender fingers, light touches. It was pure intimacy, and Natasha loved it. She craved the gentle hands so bad it nearly hurt after long hours in darkness and against cold, hard metal walls.

Clint was her light.

Natasha grabbed his wet hair and brought him down into a soft kiss that he gladly answered, and she knew that it was so unlike her to feel like this, but Clint was always an exception. Had always been.

But soon exhaustion threatened to claim them, and they made their way out of the shower, both groaning as they hit the pillows.

"I feel like I can sleep for 90 years," Natasha moaned into her pillow. Clint sighed as he burrowed underneath the blanket.

"That makes two of us."

Clint rolled so that his back was to Natasha, and she rolled after him, curling around him. He liked being the little spoon, so what? She buried her nose in his neck and breathed him in, the action making Clint shiver.

"Cold?" she asked quietly. He hummed noncommitally, and she wrapped her legs further around his.

"You're pretty cold." She hummed noncommitally back, and Clint was drifting off to sleep when he suddenly heard a beep.

"Barton, I hope I'm not being a cockblock here, but the cat's out of the bag and Emma wants to see you guys," came Tony's voice from his ear. Clint sighed and sat up, making Natasha protest, but he silenced her with a look.

"Emma wants to say hi," he explained, and Natasha heaved herself up with a yawn.

"Sure, but put her on quickly," she mumbled, pulling the blanket over her shoulder to cover her chest and keep her warm. Clint burrowed in with her before he set the tablet up, and just as Tony's tablet answered, he kissed Natasha's hair, resulting in a smile from her.

"I see you two are just as cute as you were when you left," came Tony's amused voice from the other side, and both agents snapped their gazes on the screen.

They could see Tony fighting off hands trying to grab the tablet, and Natasha smirked.

"I didn't wake back up again so that I could see your face. Show me Emma's," Natasha commanded. Tony opened his mouth to reply when the hands apparently got a hold of what they were searching for, and yanked the tablet out of Tony's hands.

"Tasha!" came Emma's screech and the camera was turned toward Emma's face. She looked shocked and happy and that adorably kind of excited only kids could be. But greatest of all, she looked fine. Her hair was sleep rumpled and she had a sleep crease on her face, but her eyes were lit with energy.

"Hi возлюбленный," Natasha nearly whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe and relief. "Are you okay?" Emma laughed and plopped down on the floor, a breathless laugh.

"Uh, _yeah_. Are _you_ okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Natasha murmured, a smile on her lips. Emma turned suspicious eyes toward Clint.

"How hurt are you guys?" she asked suspiciously and it ached in Natasha as she watched the background shift a little as Emma turned. Emma was obviously in Clint's room, the dark bedsheets and grey wall giving it away.

Natasha missed Clint's bed. She missed her own bed. She missed feeling Lucky's weight on her feet as he warmed them unknowingly, she missed seeing Steve kiss Tony on the nose and the face Tony made at him as he did it. She missed the smell of cookies on days when Bruce was suddenly out of his lab and she missed the sound of Peters webs shooting out of seemingly nowhere and hitting Tony in the face. Natasha missed the place she could call home.

Clint's hand found hers under the blanket, and she felt a familiar warmth rush through her as his calloused fingertips traced the inside of her palm gently. Clint was home too. Clint was the person she could call home.

"Um. Pretty banged up, but we're gonna get back to New York as soon as we can," he said with a small smile. Emma nodded, her look firm and determined.

"Good. I miss you."

"I miss you too," Natasha murmured, her head dropping down to rest against Clint's shoulders. Emma curled up too.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Emma smiled, and she looked to her side. Then Emma was curling up underneath Bucky's metal arm, only his chin visible.

"Glad you're not in a hospitalbed," he said, and Emma huffed as she headbutted his shoulder.

"So are we, believe me," Natasha replied softly.

"Really fucking relieved," Clint added. "Has Tony told Shield we're alive?"

"Yeah," Emma said, yawning.

"Hey what time is it in the states right now?" Clint demanded. Emma hummed.

"Like, two am."

"You're supposed to be asleep!" Natasha said.

"Yeah, well you're supposed to be in your beds!" Emma retorted, closing her eyes as she leaned more heavily on Bucky. They both felt a twinge of guilt.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Natasha blurted out. Emma's eyes flew open.

"You will?!"

"Well, we'll sure as hell tr-" Clint began.

"Yes. I promise," Natasha said. She felt Clint's hawk-like gaze on her, but she was focusing on Emma's huge smile.

"I just wanna warn you, Lucky may have accidentally torn a painting down," she said. Natasha could tell by Bucky's slight smile that she was lying, and the fact that Emma's eyes avoided hers.

"Hm, what painting?" Clint asked, squinting at Emma.

"Uh... That yellow, red, orange, green disaster."

"I don't blame him. That thing was ugly."

"You don't like it either?" Natasha asked with a look Clint's way. He shook his head.

"No. I thought we had it because you liked it?"

"I thought we had it because _you_ liked it."

"Huh. Guess Lucky did us a favor."

Emma smiled slightly and yawned again. Bucky tapped her shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go to bed again," he murmured as he started picking her up. "Say goodnight to your parents."

"Night Tash, night Clint," Emma mumbled, and Clint and Natasha waved to the tablet.

"Night sweetie."

\---


	43. Invitations And Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whelp! This is the most DC chapter in this thing, and I'm super sorry if any of the other characters are ooc! I just had a vivid idea and this happened. Promise it'll be marvel as hell in the next chapter!  
> (Also, Layla ships it)

 

The next day, Emma didn't wanna go to school. Clint and Natasha were coming home, goddammit! But both Bruce and Steve agreed that she should still go to school, and so she went. Pouting, of course.

She was pouting all day, until Layla grew sick of it and decided that this had to stop.

"Hey Damian," she said sweetly as she sat down next to him during lunch. He gave her that assessing look he'd always had.

"What do you want, Jones?"

"Why would I want something? Can't I just say hi?"

"You could. You just never use that tone unless you want something from me," he said, leaning back in his chair as if she'd try to jump him. Layla sighed.

"It's just... Emma's been really down today. You and I both hate to see her so down. You should ask her to go home with you. Meet your brothers, maybe your dad? I think that would be fun," Layla suggested with wide, innocent eyes. Damian squinted.

"I believe that would be anything _but_ fun."

"Oh come on, Dami! She doesn't know where you live! She barely knows anything about your family or history! I think she's ready to meet your family." _Because hers is probably just as chaotic if Tony Stark is Emma's uncle._

"I think you are severely wrong, Jones."

"Come oooooon," Layla whined. Damian needed to get his ass moving, or she would have to move it. He huffed.

"Fine."

"Yay! Thank you Dami!" He scowled at her.

Emma and Hope approached their table, with T.J. next to them.

"Dude, The Hobbit was butchered compared to the Lord of The Rings! The books are better," Emma said, waving her brown bag around wildly. T.J. nodded.

"Peter Jackson must've gotten tired. He just added unnecessary stuff," he sighed. Emma plopped down by Damian with a groan.

"I wanna go home!" she declared.

"When does one not want to escape from this place?" Damian huffed. Emma peeked at him from the corner of her eye with a smile.

"I'm just extra itchy today. Sorry 'bout that."

"Is there anything specifically?" Hope asked as she handed T.J. her fruitsnacks distantly.

"You guys know my parents went away? Yeah well, they're coming home today."

"So you want to get home speedily then, I presume, Barton?" Damian asked with a pointed look at Layla.

"Well I mean, yeah... That'll be boring though. Because my friend who I was gonna hang out with, his girlfriend is with him and they're really cute and in like that stage of their relationship when they're _really_ fucking cute and new and sweet and stuff, so I don't wanna disturb them? And then my uncles are all busy with their kids or labs or partners. So it'll just be me and the dog."

"Hey Dami, don't you have a dog too?" Layla asked innocently.

"I do. Titus," he said, unsure of where she was going with that statement.

"Oh cool," Emma said with a smile. "Lucky is a golden retriever I think? I'm pretty sure. He's only got one eye. My dad saved him from an abusive home and now he's the sweetest little thing. What's Titus?"

"A great dane. Father bought him as praise."

"That's nice I guess? Dog's are neat."

"Indeed."

"So you wanna go home but you'll be bored?" Layla clarified. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Basically, yeah," she said slowly. Layla kicked Damian under the table, and he closed his eyes.

"Perhaps you would like to join me then," he said, with a play at nonchalant. It didn't quite come out as nonchalant as he wanted it. Emma raised both eyebrows.

"Seriously? That'd be- you don't have to do that," she said quickly, flushing slightly. Damian quickly opened his eyes.

"You would want to?" he said, about as shocked as she was.

"Uh, I mean yeah. I'd have to check with Steve, but I'd love to," Emma said quickly.

"Oh. Well. Um. Then of course. Grayson picks me up after school. We could walk together to the carpool." Emma smiled.

"That sounds great. I'll shoot Steve a text right now," she said and whipped her phone out.

On second thought. Maybe Bruce was the one to text instead.

_can I go to my friend's house today?_

He replied a minute later.

_Which friend?_

_damian_

This time it took him a few minutes.

_Sure. I'll tell Steve about dinner. Expect getting called randomly to make sure you're still alive._

_thank u xx_

"He said yes," Emma grinned at Damian, whose cheeks were slightly flushed as Layla gave him an approving look.

"Lovely, Barton."

\---

Emma walked to the carpool with both Damian and Hope. Hope was talking about the notes she would send Emma pictures of later, because really, Emma was shit at taking notes, but Damian was silent, in the broody kind of way he'd get sometimes.

It was usually a sign of nervousness or deep thought.

"You okay, Dami?" Emma said carefully. He nodded absently and hitched the collar of his dark coat higher. Emma was wearing a bright blue thicker jacket that she'd gotten on her shopping spree with Thor and Steve. It was coming in handy now that October had come, but she felt kind of ridiculous with her bright clothes and bag when Damian looked like he'd been dipped in black ink.

At least Hope had a dark green jacket on, so she wasn't totally alone about being colorful.

"I just fear my brothers reaction to bringing you with me," he said honestly. Hope shrugged.

"They were sweet when I met them," she pointed out.

"Yes, obviously they were, Summers," he sighed through his nose, coming out as dragons breath. "They'd heard about you." Emma pretended she was smoking, huffing out a breath of "smoke", and Hope imitated her with a laugh.

"So they haven't heard about me?" she asked with a grin that was slightly faltering. Damian scowled.

"Not very much, no," he said. Hope smirked at Damian, who avoided her eyes. She knew exactly why he hadn't told his family about Emma. He held things precious to him very on the down-low. It had taken Layla a lot of inviting herself and Hope over to get him to budge.

"Oh." Emma seemed to be taking it the wrong way, and Damian wasn't noticing, but Hope saw it, and was just about to intervene when she saw her dads car pulling up.

"Oh, bye guys! Have fun!" Hope called as she skidded over to the black car by the curb. Both Damian and Emma waved. They stood in silence, but not for long.

"So which brother is picking you up?" she asked curiously, burrowing her hands further into her jacket.

"Grayson."

"Is his first name Grayson?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Dick."

"Did you just call me a dick?"

"No, his name. His first name is Richard, but he has forever been called Dick," Damian explained with a frown.

"Why would someone willingly go by 'Dick'?" she asked with a slight smile.

"Before father adopted him, his parents called him Dick. He refused to be called anything else, and he continues to do just that." Emma nodded.

"I get that. I don't remember a lot about my parents, except their names."

"What were their names?" Damian asked carefully, unsure if this was safe territory and ready to retreat. Emma stared at the tree next to them blankly. 

"Bea and Theo, depending on the day," she said quietly. "They were also mythology freaks, apparently, giving that one of my middle names are Hel, like the asgardian Hel, and another one of my middle names is Athena."

"The greek goddess of war, and the nordic goddess of death," Damian said curiously. "So your name is Emma Ophelia Athena Hel Barton?" Emma looked up at him in shock.

"...Yeah. I guess you're right. Emma Barton. I'm Emma Barton." She gave him a slight smile, which he returned, glancing out over the parking lot.

"Ah. There's Grayson," he said, grabbing a hold of Emma's elbow and leading her over the pavement towards a navy car. Damian opened the door for her, and she smiled as she hopped in.

"Hi Damian, Bruce w-" Dark blue eyes met Emma's in the mirror, and she smiled.

"Hi," she said. Damian slid in next to her and closed the door.

"Grayson, this is Emma Barton," he said matter of factly, and Dick turned around to look at them with surprise coloring his features. And holy shit, did he have nice features. His hair was longer than Damian's, and his eyes were darker, and there wasn't really any similarity, but the eyes and hair were alike as hell.

Dick Grayson was a hot guy. _Sizzle sizzle_.

"Hi Emma, nice to meet you," he replied with a confused smile. "Can't say I've heard much about you." He shot Damian  a confused look, but he didn't look back at Dick, instead focused on Emma's backpack in her lap.

"Nice to meet you too. Can't say the same about you. I've heard a lot about you." Dick suddenly smirked, friendly and inviting.

"Oh is that so? Well then, kids, let's get you home. Alfred made chocolate chips," he said.

"Sounds tasty. I'm a big fan of anything sugary, generally," she said. Dick smiled.

"Grayson too. His demise will be sugary cereal," Damian said with a slight scowl.

"Oh, dude, don't diss sugary cereal. That stuff is addictive," Emma said seriously.

"As is drugs, and coffee. Nothing addictive can be good."

"I dunno, watching tv shows is very addictive, and that could also be very educative as well as mindblowing. I know how to kill wendigos, like 90% of medical names for bones, and how to get away with murder, both legally and otherwise," she said promptly. Damian looked fascinated.

"Tv shows are rarely educative. Whatever a 'wendigo' is, I am most certain it doesn't exist," he argued. Emma tsked.

"You don't watch tv shows, do you?"

"Nope, he doesn't," Dick said, clearly enjoying their conversation from the sidelines.

"Oh you haven't lived the life until you lose track of how time whilst watching tv shows," Emma claimed. "We should start watching a show together. I don't think you'd be much of a Supernatural or Doctor Who fan, but I think Sherlock would fit you like a snug bug in a rug." Damian looked puzzled by her words.

"Sherlock Holmes? The detective?" he asked. Emma nodded.

"Yeah, just a modern version of it," she said with a shrug. Damian scowled.

"No thank you."

"Why not?" Emma whined. Damian made a strange face that looked a little like he was in pain.

"I have enough detectives in my life," he muttered. "I think I should be able to survive something more... 'Supernatural'." Emma grinned.

"Awesome. We can do our homework and then go on Netflix." He shrugged, feigning indifference as he looked out through the window, but his cheeks were turning pink, and Emma played with the zipper on her bag for a while, blushing all the same.

"So, Emma, how did you two become friends?" Dick asked suddenly. Emma looked up and met his eyes in the mirror.

"Uh, well, I met Hope first, and then Hope introduced us."

"From what Summers told me, one of the first sentences Barton ever uttered was about 'slugging' someone," Damian said.

"I can throw a punch should it be needed," Emma said with a shrug. "Also, those dudes unnecessarily pushed her into a locker. That's just plain mean."

"Barton," Dick murmured. "Where have I heard that before?"

Emma said nothing, but her heart beat just a little faster.

"So what do your parents do?" Dick asked. Emma hummed.

"Government stuff. Boring stuff. They travel a lot."

"Father does too," Damian said distantly, his eyes focused on Emma's hands where they still played with the zipper.

"Yeah, that's actually what I was going to tell you, Dami," Dick said, his voice slightly pained. "Bruce went away today, something urgent a few states away. He'll be back in a couple of days."

"So... It's just you and me?" Damian asked hopefully. Dick shrugged.

"Tim too, and Jay." Damian made a disgusted noise, and Dick visibly tensed. "Jesus Dami, not today," he said sharply as they pulled up to a pair of gates.

"Holy..." Emma mumbled as they opened and the car sped up a long drive way that ended in a fountain and a huge ass _mansion_. "Holy fuck! You live here?"

Damian seemed slightly smug at her amazement.

"Yes," he replied. "Only one butler, but Pennyworth is useful enough."

"Butler. Right. Of course you have a butler," Emma said as Dick stopped the car and cut the engine.

"Alright kids, hop on out," he said with a playful smile.

Emma and Damian did as asked, and Emma was staring at the huge doors with awe. Sky scrapers were normal, but mansions? She'd seen pictures of Tony's mansion, but this was the real deal, and holy moly was it impressing.  
She didn't even notice she hadn't moved until Damian gently took her elbow and guided her up the stairs to the mansion doors.

One of them opened, and they were met by a man with a moustache and mostly grey hair.

"Master Dick, Master Damian," the man greeted with a British accent. What was it with butlers and being British? He gave Emma a once over. "And who might you be, miss?"

"Emma. Emma Barton," she replied, sticking a hand out. The butler shook it gently, and she grinned at him as he stepped aside, letting them come in.

The entrance hall was huge. Expensive shit covered the walls, which were shiny wood, and Emma was just gaping.

"I think the kleptomaniac in me is having an aneyurism," she said out loud as Damian took his coat off.

"Do steal the more tedious things, like the golden lining on the walls," Damian said with a slight smirk. Emma gaped.

"Is that _real_ gold?" she nearly shrieked as she pressed her face to the wall, staring intently at the small golden lining on the solid wall.

"I think it's like 25%," Dick replied. Damian managed to coax her out of her jacket, but she was still pressed to the wall, studying how to get the gold off.

"This is sick. You guys are so filthy rich," she laughed as she pulled off the wall. Damian smirked, his hands behind his back. "Absolutely ridiculous."

"You seem surprised," he mused.

"Yeah, no shit, I didn't think that an apparent billionare's son would go to public school?" she said in awe. Of course, Tony was rich too, and he flaunted it, but he rarely did it around the team anymore. She was used to seeing him in sweats and tank tops and band tees washed so many times you could nearly see through them, not Armani and gold watches. That wasn't Tony to her.

"It's to keep more of a low profile. Drake did the same," Damian replied.

"Tim, right?" she asked and Damian nodded.

"Shall we grab some snacks and then continue upwards?" he suggested. Emma nodded.

"Sure!"  
\---

After delicious chocolate chips and some more chatting with Dick and Alfred Pennyworth, their awesome butler, Emma and Damian retreated to his room.

As they walked through the halls of the mansion, Emma noted the huge portraits of people.

"Jesus christ, I feel like if I sneeze the paintings will fall down and crush me," she mumbled, and Damian smiled her way, a small smile.

"Yes, it does feel like that a lot. You just have to be careful on your feet."

"Has a painting ever fallen down on you?"

"From my own making, yes," he replied and stopped by a door, opening it and sliding in. Emma followed.

Behind the door, there was a big room with a huge bed in it, no _seriously,_ the big kind of bed that Tony and Steve had, except that this one had drapes that could be drawn shut around it. A desk and a wardrobe and a tv and a bookshelf covered all walls, and there was three huge windows that had their drapes shut.

Immediately, Emma dropped her bookbag on the floor, and opened the drapes with a flamboyant snap of her wrists.

She nearly expected Damian to hiss at the light, but he didn't. He only scowled.

"What are you doing?" he asked and crossed his arms over his chest, not making a move to stop her. She pulled the drapes to the other window open just as dramatically.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked as she moved towards the last window. "I'm opening drapes _flamboyantly_."

"And why are you doing that?" he asked as she looked out over a gloomy garden.

"Because sunlight is nice. You should try it sometime. You're like a damn bat in the darkness. You know bats have super shitty eye sight? You're gonna need glasses if you keep reading in the dark," she rambled on as Damian sat down by his desk.

She flopped down on his bed and pulled her math books out.

"What's your favorite subject?" she asked.

"Math."

"Why?"

"Because it has rules and regulations that are always enforced and true."

"I like Social Studies. Mostly because the teacher is really nice, but also because I think culture is cool."

"Mr. Fitzsimmons?" he asked and turned around to look at her. Emma nodded with a smile.

"Yeah! He's super nice and he's got nice hair." Damian's gaze turned calculating, as if he was anticipating her next move.

"Nice hair?"

"You've got nice hair too."

"...I like your hair too." Emma smiled when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Rolling over on her back, she whipped it out, and saw Steve's text.

_Bruce just called me. Where does Damian live?_

Emma sighed.

_i'm fine steve_

_I hope so. Where does he live?_

_have tony locate my phone and you'll know_

She didn't get a reply, so she assumed Steve had made Tony do just that, and that he was, at least for now, satisfied that she was safe enough.

It took Damian longer to finish his homework than usual, because Emma kept making smart remarks or jokes and he had to stop and address her or laugh, and it made it hard to focus, because he generally enjoyed her company. Summers and Jones had taken some time to get used to, as had TJ, but Emma had almost effortlessly slipped into their routines.

It was odd.

When they reemerged to get popcorn, a guy came in through the front door with a huge black dog.

"Puppy!" Emma squealed, but didn't jump the dog. It was huge, and Emma didn't wanna get off on the wrong foot with it. Damian petted its head and greeted it before he greeted the other man with the same charchoal hair and dazzling blue eyes as the others. Their features were all just different enough to tell that they weren't really brothers.

"Emma, this is Titus," he said and scratched the dog's ear. Emma held a hand out carefully towards it.

"Holy shit, that's a big dog. I bet he's super cuddly too." He sniffed her, and gave out a little yip with a wag of his tail. Emma petted the thick dark fur with a grin. "Hi Titus! Who's a pretty dog? You are!"

"Pretty?" Damian questioned. Tim cleared his throat.

"Are you gonna introduce us?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Right. Drake, this is Emma Barton," Damian said, standing with his hands behind his back as he glared at Tim. Titus licked Emma's hand joyfully

"I'm guessing you're Tim?" Emma said and wiped some dog-slobber off on Damian's shirt, which made him make a noise of disgust that was super cute, and flinch away.

"Yeah," Tim said, watching them interact with the intensity needed to diffuse a bomb.

"I would shake your hand or hug you, but my hand is slobbery and I'm gonna hug the dog instead," she declared and did just that.

"Understandable, and acceptable," Tim replied with a half smile. "School friend that we haven't heard about?" Tim shot off at Damian as he walked past them to the kitchen. Damian's nose twitched, but he kept a firm grasp on the popcorn bowl, and they managed their way back to Damian's room without further misshaps or unconvenient meetings.

Titus watched Supernatural with them, even though he curled up at the end of the bed and they were at the head, throwing popcorn at each other randomly.

When they started discussing who was the hottest of the main characters, Sam or Dean, they disagreed. This had lead to a minor argument, which began when Emma grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it down Damian's shirt, and ended when they both got pushed off the bed in a flurry of laughter.

Emma had landed with her knees in Damian's gut, and he was on his back on the floor.

"This was surprisingly comfortable," she said with a giggle of laughter, and Damian snorted, started wiggling under her knees.

"For you, yes. Your knees are sharp."

"I'm not even nearly as bony as I was in May, dude. I was literally skin and bones back then."

"How so?"

"Uh. I was a prisoner for a while." Damian propped himself up on his elbows to watch her face. "Like, not jail or anything. More like a trafficking cartel. I wasn't very well fed." He stared at her for a full three seconds. Then he placed a tentative, barely touching, hand on the back of her calf.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to reply to that."

"You're not one for comforting people?"

"I rarely have to. TJ does the most comforting, and Alfred." Emma nodded from where her cheek was squished into the floor.

"I can totally see that TJ does the most comforting."

There was a faint buzzing sound, and Titus head peeked over the edge of the bed with a 'rawf'. Emma rolled off Damian and grabbed her phone from the bed.

It said Darcy was calling.

"Sup?" Emma said as she sat down with her back leaning on the bed. Damian sat up and faced her with a straight back.

"Hi Em," came Darcy's voice from the other side. "Just thought I'd tell you to not be a teenager with the teenage boy."

"He's my age, so barely a teenager," Emma pointed out and grabbed a popcorn off the floor, throwing it at Damian. He dodged it easily and threw a popcorn that had tumbled out of his button down back at her. Emma rolled away. "And I'm currently throwing popcorn at him." Darcy laughed and Emma was pelted with more popcorn from Damian's shirt.

"Well, Clint and Natasha are halfway across the Atlantic now. They'll be home by ten. When do you wanna get picked up?"

"What time's it now?" Emma asked as she hooked her foot into Damian's and pulled, making him topple over onto his back.

"Like, six pm. Steve and Bucky are making stir fry."

"Bucky cooks?" Emma said with a laugh as Damian's feet met hers. They tried to press the other one away with their feet, battling it out, whilst Darcy spoke.

"Yeah, and it smells delicious. When do you wanna get picked up?"

"Like seven thirty maybe?" Emma suggested. Damian shrugged.

"You leave when you want," he said and pressed extra hard on her right leg. Emma countered with a hard press of her left foot against his.

"Seven thirty? Sure. We'll come get you then. Text Steve when you eat, because he's such a mother hen and won't stop _pestering me about asking!_ " Darcy must've called the last few words towards Steve, because she said it a lot louder. Emma laughed.

"Tell him I'm fine and that I'm having fun. See ya, Darcy."

"Have fun! But not too much fun," Darcy said. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Bye!" She ended the call and threw her phone back up on the bed, and let her feet fall from Damian's. "When do you guys eat dinner even?"

"Around six pm, usually. Why?"

"It's six now." Damian looked thoughtful and stood up, giving her a hand. Emma stood up on her own, and Damian accepted that as he made a move for her to follow. Titus got off the bed too, joining the two children as they walked down the great halls toward the kitchen.

Alfred was making goulash and it smelled delicious. Tim and Dick were seated by the kitchen island. Emma instinctively made her steps quiet.

"-think it's cute, really," Dick said.

"Wonder if Bruce will have the 'no dating, only justice' talk with him too," Tim laughed. Both of the children stilled, as did Titus.

"God," Dick groaned. "That was one of the most awkward conversations I've ever had in my entire life." Tim chuckled, and Damian's scowl looked more sour than usual. Emma backed a few steps, and pointedly sneezed.

Damian watched with fascination as she then trotted into the room, Titus following her. Dick and Tim were frozen in their seats, and Alfred was still stirring the goulash calmly.

"Gosh, cold season is hitting early, huh?" Emma said with a smile as she petted Titus before he trotted off towards his basket in the corner. Damian entered after her, analyzing, staring at this peculiar girl. "It smells delicious, Alfred."

"I do hope so, Miss," he said. "I assumed you would be joining us for dinner."

"Yeah, and then I'll be out of your hair," she smiled. Damian scoffed.

"Nonsense. You're of no trouble at all, right Alfred?" he said.

"Quite the opposite of it," Alfred replied. "Take your seats and I will be with you in just a moment." Emma smiled shyly and everyone piled into the dining room.

Dinner was spent complimenting Alfred's cooking, teasing each other and asking Emma questions. She tried not to lie too much, she avoided going into much detail about her parents and their jobs. What was it with the brothers and their calculating gazes? It was freaking her out a little.

After dinner, Dick helped Alfred with the dishes, even though it was apparently Damian's turn. Damian barely threw a thanks towards his brother and lead Emma back to his room. They watched Netflix for another while, and Emma wrapped her arms around herself when the room started to get colder.

When she suddenly shuddered, Damian gave her a strange look.

"Are you alright?" he asked with eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Just cold, 's all," she replied. He let it slide until she shuddered again. This time he sighed as he rolled off the bed, walking towards his wardrobe. "Where the hell are you going?" Emma asked.

Damian didn't reply, only opened his huge closet and grabbed a dark hoodie, throwing it at her. It hit her, expertly aimed, in the face.

"You're shivering so much in the corner of my eye I can't concentrate on the show," he complained and plopped back down on the bed. Emma was thankful for any heat she could get in this sudden cold, and zipped it up to her chin. It was dark blue, very dark blue, like all of Damian's clothes were. He wore a lot of black, blue and very dark grey.

His hoodie was surprisingly worn and soft. The sleeves were a little longer than her arms, so she could bury her hands in the sleeves. Easy to say, she liked Damian's hoodie. It smelled nice too, not that she'd admit it. Aah, fuck. Maybe she had been swooning a little, just a _smidge_ , when she told the others about him. And with him outstretched on his stomach next to her, his hands flopping over the end of the bed with his chin buried in a pillow, she could admit to herself that she maybe, just _maybe_ , mind you, liked him.

Emma didn't like to admit that. So she didn't admit it out loud.

She kept silent, and burrowed closer into the hoodie, and stayed that way until Damian spoke up.

"Are you ashamed of your family?"

The question took Emma by surprise, and she turned her head to look at Damian, only to notice him looking at her intently.

"No. Far from it. Why?" she asked in surprise.

"You lie about your family. I assumed it was out of shame." She stared at him for a solid three seconds, then laughed and paused the show they were watching. Emma fell back, with her head by his knees.

"Can you keep a secret?" Damian snorted.

"I keep many, and can keep another." Emma took a deep breath.

"So Hawkeye and Black Widow from the Avengers are my parents, Iron man and Captain America are kinda like my uncles, so is Thor and the Hulk, who makes cookies that could meet Alfred's in a battle of goodness, and my bestest friend in the whole world is the Winter Solider, who is the sweetest thing once you get to know him and he'll let you stick fridge magnets to his cool arm if you're nice, and I was kinda a mission with a surplus for my parents who only got together like two weeks ago before my mom was sent off on a mission and when we didn't hear from her in over a week, my dad went to get her off in Europe and apparently they were stuck in a huge maze or something and they're both super out of it, but they promised me they'd be back today-" She took another deep breath and Damian watched her with mixed horror and fascination as she did. "-and I'm super proud of them, because hello, saving the world? They do that a lot, and fight monsters and bad guys and since I was new to the school they wanted my relation to them unknown and because they don't want me to get hurt because of them."

She cut her rambling off, and met Damian's eyes. He was watching her, not the calculated gaze, not the curious one, just... Watching her. Considering her.

"Your parents are superheroes?" he asked quietly, but it wasn't in awe, it looked more like... Hope? Now that was just _strange_.

"Yeah..." He nodded thoughtfully without breaking eye contact.

"That explains your inability to go into detail about them." Emma nodded. "Understandable. Keeping yourself out of harm then."

"Promise you won't tell?"

"I promise."

"Pinkie promise?" she asked and held her pinky out to him. A small smile curled on Damian's lips as he hooked his pinky with hers.

"I pinkie promise."

Emma's phone went off just as someone knocked on the door.

"Master Damian, your guest's transportation has arrived," Alfred said through the door. Emma picked her phone up, to see a text from Darcy.

_Holy shit what a huge house! Remember the motto 'marry rich, never work a day in your life'_

Emma laughed as Damian and she both stood, and she noticed his curious look. Emma grabbed her backpack.

"Darcy thinks that I should marry you," she said as she opened the door, to find Alfred standing outside. She couldn't see Damian's face, but she could imagine how he looked like.

"How so?" he inquired as he came to her side, staring at her intently.

"She thinks I should marry rich and never work," Emma grinned as they were followed to the door by Alfred.

"That sounds alluring."

"Since I'm usually super lazy when it comes to working, I'm gonna go ahead and say yes."

"So you'd marry me for my money?"

"Not necessarily that," Emma said as she had her coat handed to her by Alfred. She put the bright blue jacket on over the hoodie, completely forgetting it was even on.

"Then what else?" he asked.

"You're out fishing for compliments," Emma teased as she swung her backpack off the ground and over her shoulder.

"See ya at school, Dami."

Damian nodded with a small smile.

"Yes, of course," he replied. Alfred opened the door, and Emma peeked out to find Darcy leaning on Clint's beat up pick up truck, with Bucky next to her. He was rigid, uncomfortable, but Darcy seemed relaxed enough, smiling and waving.

"I'll be off," Emma said and was just about to turn around and sweep out the door when something came to mind. She spun back around and more or less tackled Damian in a hug. "Thanks for letting me come over and meet your family and stuff."

Blushing slightly, Damian nodded, and Emma blushed too as she rushed out down the stairs and toward Darcy and Bucky.

"Hey doll," Bucky said, some of his tension draining from his posture as she approached them in once piece. She was grabbed into a hug by Darcy.

"Hi guys!" Emma said happily from where she had her face squished into Darcy's jacket covered front.

"Ready to go home?" Darcy asked, and Emma gave the house a glance. Damian was still standing basically stock still where she'd left him, and Alfred decided to close the door.

"Yeah. Lets go home."

\---


	44. Spectre And Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I wasn't gonna make the deadline, but HERE I AM  
> Minor sex scene in the beginning. Super minor since I can't do smut.  
> Enjoy this pretty fluffy damn chapter! <3

 

Clint woke up to complete silence. It wasn't unusual, he usually did, unless it was from Lucky's pitiful whining or from Natasha's intent saying of his name. That was usually when he was having nightmares though.

Now it was just pure silence. He opened his eyes and squinted toward the sunlight streaming in through the not quite closed curtains. Shifting, he sighed, and was surprised to not hear the huff of his breath or the hiss of the sheets.

Aw, hearing aids, no...

He tapped the one sitting in his right ear, and didn't hear the dull beep of it turning back on. Shit. Batteries must be dead. Tony had recently upgraded them, adding a few things, like longer battery life. It had made this mission a lot better, because he thought he wouldn't have to worry about it.

Thank god they didn't run out inside the actual labyrinth. That could've been disastrous.

He fiddled a little and got his hearing aid out of his right ear, and did the same thing to the other, albeit carefully as to not wake Natasha that had her arms wrapped around his torso and her legs tangled in his. He placed them on the nightstand, reminding himself to find that plastic holder once he got up.

Welcoming the feeling of nothing in his ears, he rolled over in Natasha's embrace, watching the way her eyelids flickered at the sudden light hitting them. She moved a little, and opened her eyes slowly. Natasha's soft smile warmed his heart, and he smiled back, his hand cupping her cheek and running his thumb over it.

"My hearing aids ran out of battery," he mumbled, and Natasha nodded, bringing one of her hands up.

" **Do you have other batteries with you?** " He shook his head and yawned. She nodded again, and yawned back at him.

Grinning, Clint captured her lips with his, soft and welcoming.

" **Beautiful** ," Clint signed, and Natasha ran her hand through his hair, tugging lightly to urge him back into another kiss. They exchanged lazy kisses that soon enough turned heated, tongues slipping into mouths in a battle of dominance. What had Tony said about post-mission fucking again?

Natasha rolled Clint over on his back and straddled him, her naked warm body gorgeous above Clint's. The cut on her shoulder was wrapped in bandages they'd need to change before they got dressed, and her wrist was supported by another bandage, and her knees were scraped.

Clint thought she looked lovely. She looked real. The sunlight hit her bare chest, and it showed the fairness of her skin, the tiny white scars all over her torso.

His hands found solace on the back of her thighs, sliding up and down and massaging her thigh muscles as she peppered his neck with kisses, nipping on his earlobe. Not hearing her little sighs or sucking noises were weird. They had never made out or had sex without him having his hearing aids in.

Now it felt strange, but that thought was wiped from his mind when Natasha took his half hard cock in her hand. He knew he had moaned, but not hearing it felt weird. His hands ventured upwards as he made shallow thrusts into her fist, coming around to play with one of her nipples. Clint's palm was on her ribcage when it vibrated, and he assumed she'd just moaned.

It was still hot as hell, even though he couldn't hear it.

When Natasha slid down on him, she threw her head back and he could see her swallow before she was capturing his lips again and riding him slowly, their entire bodies touching as he rolled her over on her back, lifting one of her knees and spreading them. Sweat was starting to glisten on her breasts, and her cheeks were flushed as she moved her hips in time with his, gripping the sheets with one hand.

God she was so beautiful, Clint thought, his breaths coming faster. Slowly, he pulled all the way out and Natasha's eyes snapped open, her hand coming up to sign when he slid back in. He kept his hand on her ribcage as he felt her moan and she brought her hand up again.

" **Amazing. Again** ," she signed, her hands shaking. Clint happily repeated the motion, and her unharmed hand grabbed his thigh, her nails digging into it as she made another noise. Her lips moved in a way that could've been either 'Clint' or 'shit' and given the situation, it was hard for him to guess which.

He leaned down to press his face into her neck, and her nails dug into his back in a way that wasn't at all uncomfortable. Kissing her neck, Clint kept up his long thrusts and sped them up, making Natasha scratch up and down his back and clamping her legs around his waist. His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his head, and he had to stop himself from coming on the spot when Natasha grabbed a hold of his hair again, biting down on her lip as she came.

Clint could feel her folds clamping down on him, and he followed her after two more thrusts, crying out his pleasure.  
Making sure that he didn't rest all of his weight on Natasha, he slumped on top of her, and let out a sigh. After a few seconds, he could feel Natasha's gentle fingers carding through his hair, and placed a kiss to her neck.

They lay there in silence, complete and utter silence, and Clint found that he didn't find the silence as daunting as he usually did when Natasha was there with him.

\---

They ate breakfast with Daniels and Moore, who seemed pretty out of it, their voices neutral and eyes distant. This was gonna take some therapy to stop thinking about. Natasha however, she wasn't worried. She had Clint, or Coulson, and if those two didn't help, she had Lucky, or Bucky, or Darcy, or Steve, or Tony, or anybody at all in the Avengers tower. She had her family.

It didn't take them long to pack up and get to where there was a quinjet waiting to take them home. Daniels and Moore made some fuzzy excuses and went over to sleep in the cots. Clint and Natasha took the co-pilot and pilot seats, strapping themselves in and sitting in a comfortable silence.

They had a long journey ahead.

It took about half an hour for Clint to start singing Led Zeppelin songs and another three minutes for Natasha to start singing along quietly.

\---

Emma didn't know anything about crushes. She'd had one crush in her entire life, and that had been on a boy that visited the circus she used to travel with. She couldn't remember his face vividly, but she remembered his freckles. She remembered counting them.

Since literally nobody in the entire damn tower knew anything about crushes, she knew she'd have to ask someone more experienced. Like, for example, Tony. And she would ask him, as soon as Steve had made sure she'd finished her homework and that she was fine. He refocused on the hoodie she was still wearing.

"Is that Damian's?" he asked with high eyebrows. Emma looked down on herself and made a grunt that sounded like a curse.

"Yeah, shit, I forgot to give it back to him," she said. "We were watching Netflix and then it got super cold in his room, and I was shivering, so he let me borrow it." Steve made a humming noise that Emma didn't like. Not. One. Bit.

"That's nice of him," Darcy said with a smile. Emma didn't like that either.

"Why do you sound like that?" Emma asked suspiciously.

"Like what? We just think it's sweet," Steve protested, and she narrowed her eyes.

"Emma, I need your help with something," came Bucky's voice from the common room. She huffed at Steve and Darcy's looks, but slid into the room, flopping over the back of the couch.

"Yeah?" Emma asked, expecting it to be something about electronics, but he had nothing in his hand, and his look wasn't that cute befuddled one either. She gave him a confused look, and he made a pointed glance towards the vents.

"Go," he mouthed, and she stared at him wide eyed. Yup. Bucky Barnes was the best friend ever. She gave him a quick hug and with a slight boost, made her way up into the vents.

She crawled down to Tony's lab, and slid down into a crouch.

"Hi, Tony," Emma said. Tony was sitting by his computer, his hair in its usual disarray, and a hand covered in grease rubbing his neck. He made a noise of recognition.

"What can I do for you, sugar?" he asked.

"Uh, I have a question..." Emma said awkwardly. Tony hummed. Her eyes narrowed. "About science."

Tony swiveled around so fast he probably got whiplash, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Oh _really now_?" he said and wiggled his eyebrows. Emma snorted.

"No. I need advice," she said. Tony dimmed but shrugged.

"I have to hope for Petey to develop an interest in science, then," he sighed. "What's up kiddo? And why is it so severe you feel like you need to ask me?"

"Because you're the most experienced in this area. I think." His eyes narrowed.

"You know Romanoff has literally, very descriptively may I add, told me how she'd murder me if I ever discuss my playboy past with you, right?"

"Well, you've had crushes. Right?"

"Oh. _Damian_ ," Tony said with a nod. "Ah. Well... I mean... How do I explain this... I've only ever had... Like, four crushes in my life. At least the kind of crush you're talking about." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. Emma sat down on the couch where Tony would occasionally crash, and pulled her legs up under her.

"Steve is one?" she prompted, and Tony smiled a half smile.

"God yeah. I've been crushing on him since I was a kid. Dad told me all these stories, all about Captain America and how great he was and how wholesome... And Howard saying that? Geeze, the guy may have looked all friendly outwards, but there were few people he actually trusted and called friends. Captain America was one of them, and that made a huge imprint on me. Then when I first met the guy..." Tony chuckled. "He was so touchy. Couldn't take a joke. I was pretty offended at first, but then Clint got to me. Told me the guy had just woken up after what probably felt like a few days, and that his friends were dead and shit was going down left and right. That I should be nice. So I was."

Emma smirked.

"And you realized you like-liked him?"

"Well no, it was more like I tripped into a relationship with him. We went out on a few dates that I didn't really get were dates, apparently being force fed food in the middle of the night in sweats can be called dates nowadays, and then one time Steve asked me what we should do for dinner and Barton called us a couple and Steve said 'yeah so what' and I said 'what? no'. Then we had to talk, which was pretty nerve wrecking, because come on, I'm a human _disaster_ , and Steve said that he still wanted to be with me and I was super confused until he just like... Grabbed my face, stared into my eyes fiercely with a cute as hell blush, and kissed me." Tony smiled shyly and bit his lip.

"That's very cute," Emma pointed out. Tony nodded with a grin, turning more confident again.

"Yeah... We kinda fell in love because of my habit of forgetting to eat." Emma smirked.

"And now you're engaged with a kid." Tony beamed proudly.

"Yup. Now I'm not saying marry Damian, or get pregnant; I'm saying, if you want him, go get him."

"And how would I do that?"

"Pull a Steve on him. Have dates that he doesn't know are dates. Isn't there a new Bond movie coming out?"

"Yeah?"

"Jarvis, fix two tickets for that," he said with a hand wave. "For... What, Saturday? I think that'll be swell."

"The Bond movie doesn't air until, like, November!" Emma said with big eyes. Tony made a dismissive noise and turned back to his computer, fixing some details and throwing around what looked like an _enormous_ amount of money.

"Tickets for Saturday. Dark movie theater. Just the two of you. Imagine what could happen! Just stay protected," he said distantly, and Emma's eyes were huge.

"Tony, you can't- You can't just do that!"

"I just did? Now we're just waiting for confirmation. And an angry call from Pepper, most probably." Emma just gaped at him.

"You're absolutely ridiculous," she laughed and got off the couch, tackling Tony, still in his chair, in a hug. He seemed surprised at first, but then gently hugged her back. "Thank you. You're definitely the best uncle as of now."

"Well, obviously, but who's second best?"

"Bruce."

"Of course. It's the cookies and the slippers, isn't it?"

"The Hulk slippers does give him an advantage," Emma said very seriously, and Tony laughed.

"Sir, Agent Romanoff and Barton are approaching the tower. Should I inform the others?" Jarvis suddenly said. Emma shot up from Tony and stared at the ceiling.

"They're coming!?" she exclaimed, and started nearly bouncing on the spot. Tony gave her a gentle push towards the door.

"Go find Bucky and get to the roof," he said, and Emma more or less ran out off his workshop. "Yeah, tell the others to get up to the roof too, Jay."

\---

Natasha was itching to just jump out of the quinjet after seven damn hours in this damn seat, but she sat still. She could be patient. Sitting still for another ten minutes as they maneuvered through New York was just another challenge. She'd been trained to sit in worse places for longer.

Clint however, well, he didn't give a shit about sitting still anymore. He was pacing the floor impatiently, and Daniels and Moore were looking through the windows tiredly. They were nearly home.

They'd gotten in contact with Phil as soon as they could, and he'd sent for a car for Daniels and Moore to be transported to debriefing.

"Geeze, you two have a kid? Then stay with the kid for the night. We'll take care of the first debriefing," Moore said dismissively and shook off literally any protest Natasha and Clint threw their way. Not that they protested very much.

But when they could see the Avengers tower, not even Natasha could sit still, and she stood up and saw a gathering of people on the roof. Her heart warmed and Clint helped steady her as the quinjet lowered itself onto the roof.

The latch lowered, and Natasha took steady steps off, with Clint right next to her. A tiny red blur of hair charged towards them, and Natasha immediately dropped to her knees.

"Mom!" Emma screamed and threw herself onto Natasha, and Natasha hugged her so tight that she thought for sure she was breaking Emma's ribs. Emma hugged her just as tightly back, her small hand petting Natasha's hair that wasn't even properly washed but Emma didn't care, because Natasha was alive, and fine!

Clint hugged them both tightly, not wanting to ever let them go, and Natasha murmured sweet things in Russian in Emma's ear to get her to stop shaking. Clint couldn't hear anything but the silence, but he could feel Natasha talking from the way her ribcage vibrated where his hands currently lay.

They sat there for what felt like minutes when it really must've only been moments, and then there was a hand on Natasha's shoulder. She was pulled up into a gentle hug by Thor, and she still clutched Emma to her front but hugged him back with her one free arm. Then came Steve, and Bruce, and Darcy, and Jane and last but not least, Tony and Peter.

When she looked around for Bucky, she found him next to Clint, signing whatever Steve was currently saying to Clint. Judging by the hand on his shoulder, it was something along the lines of 'I'm glad you're okay'. Steve always had a thing about touching people to make sure they were there, that they were alright.

Emma still had her face pressed into Natasha's side, and didn't appear to be coming out of her hiding spot any time soon. Natasha didn't mind, surprisingly. Not one bit.

Bruce, being the only one sensible enough to escort Daniels and Moore to the elevators, disappeared. Soon enough Natasha was telling quiet and quick details of their mission in Russian to Bucky, who had his eyes locked on Emma. Probably hoping that she didn't understand them. Seeing as she hadn't stared at them in shock or horror yet, probably not. Natasha wondered how much Russian Bucky had come to teach Emma.

When everyone had understood that Natasha and Clint were moderately fine, Emma looked up from Natasha's side, studying Clint.

"Are his hearing aids gone?" she asked with a look up at Natasha.

"The batteries need to be recharged," she said. "Right now he can't hear a lot. Probably vibrations."

"Oh. Oh wait!" Emma waved wildly, and Clint's watchful eyes snapped to the movement almost immediately. " **Hi Clint** ," Emma signed, spelling out his name in ASL. Clint grinned and signed a 'hi Emma' back.

"Has Bucky been teaching you ASL?" Natasha asked, mildly surprised that Bucky would do so.

"Meh, I've been watching some youtube videos and stuff. He's helped me with some things though, like insults." Natasha chortled, and buried her face in Emma's hair, her hands rubbing circles into the dark blue hoodie she had on. Wait...

"This isn't yours." It was a statement, not a question, and Emma flushed slightly, burying her face back into Natasha's side.

"No." Her reply was muffled by Natasha's purple sweater, and Natasha ran through the options of whose it could be. Small, only a bit larger than Emma's usual size really, so not one of the guys. Dark, not like any of the guys style really either. That left TJ and Damian, and Emma's tone when she said Damian's name only made it reasonable.

"Is it Damian's? Did you go to his house?" Natasha asked with a small smile into Emma's hair.

"Maybe. Yeah. Fine. He lives in a huge ass mansion and has gold linings on his walls that I tried to peel off," Emma muttered, and Natasha gently grabbed her chin, tilting it upwards with a chuckle.

"Tony was right. You're definitely our kid. I've got some solutions that can dissolve varnish without disturbing the surfaces underneath. I'll show you before you go to his place next time," Natasha said with a wink, and Emma stared up at her like she'd hung the stars in the sky. Natasha was used to men looking at her like that, but children?

That was a new feeling of warmth in her stomach, one she'd started associating with Emma. A strong wave of affection and, _dare she say it_ , love.

Everyone made their way into the elevator, and it was sure as hell a tight squeeze, but they all managed to get down to the common floor in one ride, even as Darcy squeezed Steve's ass who in turn accidentally pinched Bucky's butt. Bucky would've doubled over suppressing a laugh from the look on Steve's face, had the elevator not been so cramped.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Emma grabbed her parents hands and dragged them toward the couch. Everybody else followed, of course, but at least Emma got to sit inbetween her parents, with Clint's strong arm over the back of the couch and most of Natasha's shoulders. Natasha was signing, and Clint was talking, and Emma felt more at home than she had ever felt in any town or on any line high up in the air. This was her home.

She was Emma Barton.  
\---

"Alright, I'm just gonna repeat this to make sure I've got it right," Clint said with a smirk he was trying to contain. Emma nodded in confirmation. "In the time I've been gone, you've punched a kid in the face at school, torn a painting off the wall, successfully used Tony's, and now your, magnetic gloves to get Peter off the ceiling in the training room, nearly shot Tony in the ass with an arrow, and went to Damian's house?" She did a feeble little shrug, and Clint burst into full on laughter.

He had his spare _spare_ hearing aids on, because of this super duper serious talk they were having right before bed, and his usual ones were charging. These ones hadn't been touched by Stark, and it bothered Clint a little how he missed more of the words than usual.

Natasha repressed her smile as she nearly shoved Clint off his bed, and he just laughed harder.

"Clint, stop, these are all bad things that we should punish you for," she said sternly. Emma's lips quirked up into a smile when Clint clutched his stomach, actually toppling off the bed this time.

"Ow!" came a grunt off the floor, and Emma peeked over the edge. Clint was still giggling, and he pointed a guilty finger at her. "You! We should give you a prize for nearly shooting Tony in the ass. And the punching."

"No, we're not, Clint," Natasha replied, and tapped Emma's knee to get the attention back to her. Emma turned back, and now she looked a little more hunched over, a little more protective. "What kid and why did you punch him?"

Emma huffed. It was best to not lie. They'd know.

"Some random kid in eight grade. But he was being a sexist ass! You know that Star Wars shirt I love?" Emma asked, and Clint hummed affirmatively from the floor. "I was wearing that and he was probably trying to look cool or something in front of his friends, because they were all looking at me expectantly from their table. So he says 'oh why are you wearing that girls don't like Star Wars' and I asked him why not, and he was like 'there's too much fighting' and I just thought he was ignorant and Hope gave him this 'are you fucking kidding me right now' look. He told me that I should stop being such a fake fan, and I nodded and I stood up and I punched him."

Natasha hummed.

"Tony picked you up?" She nodded again. "Breaking two rules? Really now?" It was said in an unimpressed tone, and Emma curled in a little more on herself, probably waiting for a blow that would never come. 

"Well I think I can let the punching slide. As long as he was being a sexist dick. We don't tolerate sexist dicks in this household," Clint said, still on the floor. Natasha assumed he liked it on the floor, since his breath was coming slowly and evenly, and not sounding wheezing as it did sometimes when he was hurting.

"Great. Then I fit right in." Natasha gave Emma's hair a gentle stroke because she could and goddammit, she deserved the nicer things in life, like a daughter like Emma. 

"Yes you do," Natasha said, softer than she'd intended, and surprise colored Emma's features for a split second, before she looked away. "I can let the punching slide too. _Just this once._ " Emma grinned.

"Awesome. I'll need you to sign a slip for me," she said.

"Hm. Sure. As for Damian..." Natasha said, and Clint sat up, paying less playful attention. Emma grinned.

"Yeah. His house was huge. It was great. We watched Netflix and played with his huge dog and talked to his butler and brothers. Their butler made awesome food," she said with a firm nod.

"This is gonna be a ridiculous question, but it needs to be asked: no funky business?" Clint asked suspiciously from the floor. Emma shook her head.

"No funky business. Just two friends hanging out. And I shoved popcorn down his shirt. That's about as funky as it got. I tripped him and accidentally shoved my knees into his stomach too."

"Sounds more like you were fighting," Natasha scoffed. Emma looked a little distant and tucked the hoodie around her tighter. It still smelled like Damian.

"Nah. Playfully fighting. The usual."

"Do you 'playfully fight' with Bucky?" Clint questioned. She shrugged.

"Depends on his mood. If we're watching movies, I'll tickle attack him. We'll wrestle. You guys know I'm pretty much as strong as he is, right? It's really cool."

"I wanna see you beat Steve at armwrestling," Clint said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. Emma wiggled hers back.

"And I wanna see a velociraptor in a bow tie. Not all wishes come true." Clint whistled.

"Damn. Who peed in your cereal this morning?" Emma huffed.

"I'd rather not beat Steve at armwrestling. He'd probably be pretty devastated. And drink more of those weird looking smoothies he drinks straight from the blender like a barbarian. I want to save Tony the struggle of getting him to eat food like a normal person."

"True," Clint admitted. An idea sparked. "Can you beat Bucky's arm?" Emma hummed.

"That's a good question."

"No," Natasha said simply.

"Alright, fine, let's not try that," Clint admitted, backpedaling. Natasha looked over to Clint's alarm clock.

"Bed time," she announced, and Emma whined.

"Can I sleep with you guys?" she asked with her wide, pretty faux innocent eyes aimed at Natasha.

"Of course," she said softly. "Go brush your teeth and get into pjs." Emma skipped off the bed and out of the room.

" **Bandages?** " Natasha signed, and he shrugged.

"Might as well change 'em before bed," he said. Natasha got her pants off and her shirt and Clint reapplied the bandages to her shoulder. Natasha had her enhancements that allowed her to heal faster than normal people, namely Clint, and so the cut in her shoulder was already scabbing over. It would leave a small, slightly paler line when the wound was gone, and Clint nearly envied her.

God knows he's got too many scars of his own.

With a light kiss to Natasha's temple, he chucked his shirt too, and let her apply creme to a burn mark on his back. Fucking _fire whips_.

"We have to go to Shield tomorrow, don't we?" Clint groaned as he jumped into a pair of sleep shorts. Natasha sighed wearily.

"I just want to sleep right now," she declared and rubbed at her temples.. Emma bounded into their room, without Lucky, and Clint noticed the absence.

"Where's Lucky?" he asked as Emma crawled into his bed.

"With Katie-kate," she replied. "She's feeling kinda lonely so she's been stealing him on and off. Steve usually goes by her in the morning and takes him out for a morning run if he's up for it."

"He's living the life, chasing cars with Captain America, fetching arrows for Kate and sniffing his own ass," Clint sighed happily. Emma snickered, and Natasha's lips quirked as she joined Emma under the covers, curling up.  
Clint was little-spooned by Natasha as soon as he joined the two of them, and Emma curled up to his chest.

"Goodnight guys," Emma mumbled as she sighed. Clint kissed her hair and Natasha's fingers stroked over her arm. She felt safe and protected, and reveled in it.

"Goodnight возлюбленный," came Natasha's sleepy mumble, and Clint just hummed, hoping she'd get the message.

She did.

\---


	45. The Hoodie And Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any mistakes, it's past three am and I'm tired.  
> Thank you, all of you, for your comments and kudos and reads! It makes me so happy to see you guys enjoying this fic so much and it just... It gives me life. Dear god.  
> Don't ever stop being awesome, all of you out there!  
> Enjoy! <3

 

The next day Emma returned the hoodie to Damian. Tried to, actually. It was very unsuccessful.

He frowned at her.

"Keep it." Emma raised sceptical eyebrows.

"It's yours, Damian," she pointed out. He pushed the hoodie back into her arms.

"Keep it," he repeated.

"Dude, it's your hoodie. I can't just steal it from you," she said, more amused than annoyed at his antics. Damian shrugged, feigning indifference.

"Father has money. He'll buy me a new one should it be needed."

"You think I don't have the money to buy my own hoodie?"

"Just keep it, Barton," Damian huffed with an eyeroll and walked over to his locker to grab his books. TJ wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Hope, who wiggled back with a smirk.

Emma shrugged and put the hoodie back on. She wasn't one to diss free stuff that was comfy and warm, especially since their school apparently didn't know what the word 'heating' meant. Layla was sending Damian pointed looks that he just as pointedly ignored.

 

When she came home, Clint and Natasha were still out doing Shield stuff, and Bruce was yet again in the kitchen, currently eating what looked to be about three people's worth of take out.

"Hi Bruce!" Emma said happily. He waved, as he still had food in his mouth and he wasn't Clint. "So we did something kinda confusing today during math, and Hope tried to explain it to me, and I _kinda_ get it, but I just wanna check it up with you so that I'm _sure_ I know." Bruce swallowed the food in his mouth.

"In other words, your math teacher doesn't explain well enough and you don't want to ask in front of the class, and Hope has to explain quietly and rushed before the teacher catches you," he said with a slight smile.

"Yup. Basically." He chuckled and brought his food around to the other side of the kitchen island, sitting down next to Emma. She chucked her jacket and his eyebrows raised just a smidge.

"Still got his hoodie?" Bruce piped up as she opened her math books.

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. I tried returning it but he told me to keep it, and it's a nice shirt so, obviously, I did." Bruce hummed.

"Oh." That one syllable made Emma's eyes narrow.

" _Don't._ " Bruce held his hands up in surrender with a soft smile.

"Sorry, sorry. Alright, let's see here..."

\---

Emma and Damian did watch Spectre, and Emma thought it was great, and Damian thought it was okay. They'd thrown popcorn at each other and crawled over the seats like toddlers on a sugar rush, since they'd had the whole movie theater to themselves. Clint and Natasha trusted that Emma would blow his head off if he tried any 'funky business', but he didn't.

It kinda pissed Emma off, to be honest.

She voiced her opinion about that to Hope who shrugged and said that Damian was 'complex, weird and frankly as stale as chips in a bag that's been open for months'. Emma knew that already. But he was also a dork that loved his dog and had started binge-watching tv shows she recommended to him. On school nights.

But he had a flare of danger to him, too. One day he came to school with bruised ribs and a cut on his cheek. TJ told her that he got hurt sometimes. Always said it was just from kicking around his brothers, but Emma saw that he was lying, and judging from TJ's expression, he didn't seem to believe it all that much either.

No way in the world would Dick or Tim do that to him. She only noticed a cut in the middle of his back because of her own experiences and the way he walked, a little less up tight than normal.

"Hey Dami?" Emma said carefully, as to not scare him. His jaw was set in an expression of pain, and she knew it must hurt like hell. Layla and Hope were walking in front of them, talking about this and that. Something about Halloween costumes.

"Yes, Barton," he replied flatly, his eyebrows quirking. She was wearing his hoodie today, and she buried herself deeper into it. The gesture always made him a little less tense, and it worked now too, miraculously.

"Why do you have a huge ass sword slash on your back?" she asked casually, and Damian huffed after a few seconds of silence.

"Sword slash? I have no such thing on my back." Emma smiled at him, innocently, and distantly she saw his face go from ' _oh please_ ' to ' _oh shit_ '.

"Oh. Okay, cool, so then I don't have to worry about doing this," she said and pressed a pointer finger into the middle of his back, where the apparently non-existent sword slash was at.

Damian hissed in pain and whipped away from her fingers, muttering something in another language that, implied by his tone, sounded like cursewords.

Emma tsked.

"You suck at lying," she pointed out, and Damian flashed her a truly annoyed grimace of pain. My my my. She'd never noticed how his eyes flashed when he was actually annoyed at someone specific and not just the world in general. "Now tell me why," Emma added, her voice quieter this time.

She'd gotten Tony to tell her about how he'd gotten the arc reactor inserted, and if she could convince the man who was one of the clammiest of the clams in the world at keeping his stories close to his chest, then she could damn well convince Damian to tell her about his mystical sword injury.

He muttered more words in another language, and Emma had to stop her eyes from zeroing in on his lips because, _christ on a cracker_ , his voice sounded dark and lovely when he did that. Very _very_ lovely.

"Bad fencing session," he offered an excuse, and Emma narrowed her eyes at him, showing him just how much she believed his bullshit.

"Sure Damian. Because fencing swords make those kind of cuts," she said very sarcastically.

"Sabers do," he informed her, and she scoffed.

"I'm going to let this slide for now, but if you lie to me about another injury I will find a way to force the truth out of you," she declared, and could see Damian do a double take at her face as she said the words. Emma realized they were highly suggestive, and walked away from where he was standing still in the corridor with her head held high.

It took Damian two slow blinks and a reminder of Dick and Tim laughing about the fact that father would want to talk to him about this, before he could force his legs to start moving again.

Damian Wayne was dangerous, but there was something about that peculiar girl that made him realize she was probably just as dangerous.

\---

"How often is Damian hurt?" Emma asked from Hope's floor. She was sprawled on the yellow carpet shaped like a butterfly on the floor, and Hope was on her single bed, scribbling away in her notebook. She'd met Hope's dad as he drove them home and she'd found them living in a cute villa that was homey and nice but smelled faintly like Tony's workshop, grease and hot metal.

Hope only hummed distantly, and kept scribbling away, but Emma was bored with the English homework and she wanted to talk. Damian wasn't just weird, he might be weird and suicidal if he tried to brush off an injury like that.

"Hope!"

"Wha?" she said, turning her head to indicate she was listening, but her eyes were still glued to her notes, and she was still writing.

"Damian?" Emma inquired yet again and shot an impatient glance at Hope. She sighed and dropped the pencil, looked down at Emma on the floor.

"What about him?"

"How often is he hurt?" A worried frown passed over Hopes face.

"Gosh, he's... Damian gets hurt a lot. Sometimes it's worse than just hurt ribs and a cut on his face. Sometimes he looks like he just got out of a fight with a puma armed with grenades. He broke a finger last year, no, _shattered_ a finger. It looked like someone had been at him with a huge hammer." Hope looked uncertain. "I've met his dad. He's kinda scary and gruff, but I can't see him ever hurting Damian. Ever."

Emma nodded silently, urging her friend to continue. Hope took her glasses off, rubbing her eye and keeping the other one focused on the floor with a huff.

"God knows we've asked. He says it got a little rough with his brothers and that's it, but, you've met Dick, right?" Emma nodded.

"Yeah. Doesn't feel like the type who would shatter anyone's fingers." Hope shook her head wearily.

"He isn't. Neither is Tim. Jason, however..." Emma's eyebrows furrowed.

"Jason?" she piped up. Hope smiled a little.

"He and Damian kinda hate each other in a very brotherly way. It's very cute to hear them squabble. I promise you Jason would take a bullet for him though. Anyway, he's probably the only violent of the three that could cause that much damage, but he... Not to Damian."

Emma nodded again. Her heart was beating a little faster. Who would hurt Damian like that?

"Is he bilingual?" The question surprised them both, and Hope scoffed.

"Nope. Polyglot. He knows so many languages fluently that it makes even _my_ head spin. He does tend to frequent between English and, when he's agitated, Arabic. Sometimes French if he's feeling colorful in his cursing, and Italian when he needs to get his way, a dash of Spanish here and there. He was raised that way, apparently."

"His dad taught him like, a billion languages?" Emma asked cautiously, because that sounded a lot like Natasha and Bucky. Trained assassins. Sparring, many languages, strange wounds...

"His mom," Hope corrected with a slight nod. "He came to America when he was ten. His dad, the billionaire, had an affair with some girl over in Europe, and Damian came out of it. She apparently raised him to be smart and gloomy."

Emma nodded numbly.

"I think he spoke Arabic to me today," she declared. Hope shrugged. 

"Not unusual. I think he began a sentence in English and ended it in Arabic when he was talking to Layla about the upcoming math test. If you don't get what he's saying, just ask him to repeat himself." Emma nodded distantly.

"It was kinda hot."

Hope laughed, and Emma grinned.

"Oh come on! Like you haven't thought about it!"

"It does sound pretty nice," Hope admitted. 

They heard the front door closing downstairs, and hushed whispers. Emma raised her eyebrows at Hope in silent communication, and Hope shrugged back. 

Together they snuck out of her room and towards the stairs. They peeked silently over the edge, both of them on their stomachs peeking down toward the front door. 

It couldn't be Clint, he'd be coming by some time after six thirty, and it wasn't even four yet. 

No, in the hall, there was a woman with dark hair standing, although she had a huge white streak in her hair. She didn't look old enough to have that, but Damian might be a fucking assassin, so _why the fuck not_. Nothing made sense anymore.

She was speaking silently to Hope's dad, Nathan, who nodded carefully.

Hope breathed a silent sigh of relief next to her, and spelled a name out with her fingers on the carpet they were lying on.

R-O-G-U-E.

Emma was sated that Hope knew who it was, but they kept staring at the two. Hope's dad reached his arms out in what looked like a half hug, and the woman looked hesitant, but sighed.

"I don't wanna hurt you, darlin'," she said in a normal voice, not a whisper, and Emma noticed a southern drawl to her voice. She liked it.

"You know you won't," Nathan promised, and Rogue smiled sadly, her hand instead brushing over his shoulder.

"I know. Ain't gonna take the chance of doin' so anyways."

"Then stay for dinner. Hope has a new friend over." Rouge smiled, and Emma decided that she liked Rouge from that smile.

"Oh is that so? Who?"

"A girl named Emma. Sweet kid. Probably going to get Hope in a lotta trouble."

Emma shrugged where she was on the floor. He wasn't necessarily _wrong_. Hope stifled a snort, and both adults tensed. Lightning quick, Emma grabbed Hope and rolled backwards. They lay there in silent shock for a few moments, before Nathan hummed.

"Let's talk in the kitchen," he said. Rouge must've nodded, because he received no vocal reply, and Emma and Hope heard the creak of the floorboard on the way into the kitchen.

They suppressed giggles on their way back to Hope's door, and once it was shut quietly, they both started giggling loudly.

There was a spark of mirth in Hopes eyes that Emma caught.

Oh yeah. Emma was gonna get Hope into some serious trouble.

\---

Halloween was coming up, and everyone in the Avengers tower were excited. Well, not really Natasha. Or Bucky. Or Bruce... All the others though! They were excited.

Tony threw a party on Halloween. Well, he always had, but with kids now? Emma had never gone out trick or treating. Neither had Natasha, or Peter, and Steve and Bucky had rarely done it the truly American way. Clint decided that that was exactly what they were going to do, and Tony agreed.

Pepper had other plans however, and as he was the face of the company, even if Pep was officially CEO now, he was forced to go to a charity gala.

Everyone had been told to keep their costumes a secret so that they could laugh at each other when the time came to go out, but Tony was a blabber mouth and Natasha took Emma and Darcy and Bucky shopping for the event, so almost everyone knew what everyone was going to dress up as.

Steve was a T-bird from Grease, one of his favorite movies currently. Darcy had watched it with Bucky and he'd been happening to be passing by, and Steve fell in love. Tony looked about ready to bend Steve over the table when he put his leather jacket on and shot off a wink and a smirk Tony's way.

Tony was in a stylish suit due to the gala, but he was wearing devils horns and had let his goatee go a little wild, much to Clint's despair. Tony had a tendency to talk too fast and do a little leer whilst he was talking which was infuriating enough when his goatee wasn't a little bush. Clint just about gave up listening to him.

Clint had a brown hat and a leather jacket and a whip. The first thing he did when he emerged was call Emma 'Shortround' and swooped Natasha into a dramatic kiss that made her snort so hard she could barely kiss him back.

Natasha was wearing black robes that pooled around her dramatically, and a witch hat in black too. She was wearing eyeliner and black lipstick and she looked damn majestic. Clint felt his knees go weak as her hips swayed a little more than usual when she strutted into the kitchen, and was snapped out of his trance by Bucky chuckling.

" **Devious girl,** " he muttered in Russian, and Clint made a strangled noise of agreement.

Bucky was dressed in dark robes and half of his metal arm covered up. A plastic lightsaber was hung on a leather belt around his waist. He was Anakin, pre-darkside, even though Tony insisted on calling it post-darkside, because that's what he was.

Darcy was matching, her hair up, and wearing a white tight shirt and pants and boots. She had a gun, plastic of course, and was looking as gorgeous as Padme herself had. She had aimed the gun upwards and Emma had joined her in a Charlies Angels pose.

Bruce had body painted himself green and said "I'm the hulk" in a deadpan, with purple pants and a green jacket in case it got too cold. Tony laughed his ass off, as did Clint. Even Natasha's lips twitched.

Thor and Jane were Zeus and Hera, hilariously enough, but Jane was dragging the god of thunder off to the charity gala, which he was probably more happy about than she was. They left with Tony who was happy for the company of his scientist friend and the demi god.

Peter was dressed as Link from the Legend of Zelda, and even had a tiny sword and shield. "Just like his pops," Tony quipped and Steve was swinging Peters small sword with sound effects, making the toddler giggle.

Emma was dressed as Castiel from Supernatural, with the trenchcoat and the suit and the tie, but she would've gone as Natasha if only Natasha had let her borrow one of her catsuits. Natasha had only chuckled and shook her head when she asked.

"Too much blood on those for you to ever touch, возлюбленный."

Clint had offered to take Emma's friends out too, but Damian had declined and frowned when she asked.

"I do not dress up and beg for candy, Barton," he said with distaste. Emma called him dull and he only frowned more. Hope however, she would love to, and Layla too. TJ had his siblings that he was forced to go with. They were triplet boys at the age of 9, and he wanted to give his mom a night to relax rather than keep track of them. His cousin, Jacob, was walking with them. 

They picked Hope up first, as Natasha had spoken to her dad over the phone and Clint had met him. Hope was dressed up in a Tron costume, all black and lights and her own disk on her back.

"Holy shit, you look awesome!" Emma hollered at her as she came down the steps to the house. Nathan was standing proudly in the doorway, and Clint waved. Nathan waved back.

"Oh my god, you too!" Hope squealed back. "Can you do the voice?"

"The real voice or the Misha voice?" 

"I was gonna say Misha, but now I'm curious as to how you were thinking of doing the real voice." Emma hummed thoughtfully.

"I could have my uncle made something that breaks glass. That would be fun. Like the James Bond ring."

"No glass breaking things," came Natasha's voice from behind them, and Emma turned around with a sheepish grin.

"Hope, this is my mom, Natasha," Emma introduced, and Natasha smiled from under her hat. "That's my uncle Steve, that's my cousin, Peter, that's my other Uncle Bruce, that's my best friend in the whole wide world, and that's my Darcy." Darcy laughed, and Hope stared up at them with wide eyes.

"Oh. Cool. I'm Hope," she said shyly, and Emma thanked God for Halloween costumes. Her family was pretty hard to recognize without their designated weapons or bulk, and she found it freeing. 

Tonight, everyone around them were lunatics in costumes as well.

"Guys, this is Hope, be nice to Hope, especially you, Pete," Emma said with a pointed glare at the little baby. He was currently sat happily on Natasha's hip, and Steve chuckled as he leaned down to press a kiss to Peter's nose. Hope laughed too.

"Aaaaw, he's so cute!" she cooed.

"Yeah, I know, adorable as hell," Emma agreed. Steve grinned at them.

"He gets that from his dad," he said simply.

"Genetically impossible," Clint protested as Hope waved another time at her dad and they were off towards Layla's house.

Emma and Hope walked hand in hand happily, chattering about how much candy they were gonna get and what Layla might be. She'd been pretty secretive about it, but Emma had some theories.

"I think she's gonna be either a ninja or a ballerina," she declared.

"Oh? Well, that's basically the same thing."

"Ninjas and ballerinas? I like the way you think. There should be a movie about ninjas being trained by ballerinas to get their grace," she said. Hope nodded.

"Obviously. Also ballerinas have my outmost respect. Anyone who can stand on their toes like that deserve respect."

"Oh shit yeah. I think it's just horrifying. Nat, you used to be a ballerina, right?" Emma called behind them. Natasha was now holding Clint's hand lightly instead of Peter, who was being carried by Darcy.

"I did," she said with a nod.

"Oh, cool! Can you stand on your tippy toes like that?" Hope asked, wide-eyed. Natasha nodded again. "Whoa!"

"You can still do that?" Clint said incredulously. Natasha narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm offended that you would underestimate me like that," she told him, her eyes still narrowed at him. He put his hands up in surrender, and her lips twitched as he grinned at her.

"Not underestimating, being amazed, Nat. When was the last time you danced?"

"A while ago," she said flippantly.

"I don't think I've ever seen you dance ballet in all the years I've known you."

"Because you're not in the right place at the right time," she supplied.

"Where and when would the right place and right time be then?"

"Wherever there's a barre and whenever I'm in the mood," she said. Clint squeezed her fingers.

"Care to show me sometime?" She squeezed back.

"Hm. Maybe."

They walked by a street light, and a guy was standing there, leaning on it. Emma recognized him very well, and waited for the others to pass out of hearing range. Hope was happily talking about celebrities with Darcy.

"Wade? Is that you?" asked Emma with a slight giggle. It was very obviously Deadpool, he was wearing a trench coat, a hat, and those glasses with the nose and mustache, but it was very obviously Deadpool. He looked up, and the eyes on the mask seemed to widen, however that was possible. He shushed her.

"I'm not Deadpool," Wade declared sneakily in his gruff voice, and Emma stared at him for a full two seconds before she laughed her ass off. 

"Nice costume," she said. He grinned, she could see it behind the mask even, and he tipped the hat at her.

"Thank you, Your Angelness," he said. She grinned back.

"You know who I am?"

"A holy tax accountant?"

"You got it."

"Hey Em, don't trail behind!" came Hope's voice as she came running around the corner, and Deadpool was suddenly standing tall, no longer leaning against the streetlight.

"Baby Summers?" he called, and Hope froze in her tracks, almost mid-step.

"Wade?!" she said, her face a mix between shock and horror.

"Baby Summers! How's your old man?" he asked, and Hope came forth, and grabbed a hold of the loop in Emma's coat sleeve. 

"Uh, he's fine. Not Freddy Kreuger this year?" she asked. Wade chuckled and shook his head.

"Nope, that'd be too easy." Hope frowned a little.

"Uh-huh. You out trick or treating?" Wade chuckled a little.

"Yeah, uuuuh... I'm out with Ellie." He fidgeted.

"Oh nice! Whenever you need babysitting, you have dad's number." Wade nodded, a little distracted.

"Riiiight... I'm gonna... Leave now." Wade walked with them and where they turned right to their group, he turned left.

They stared after him for a few moments.

"How do you know Wade?" Emma asked Hope.

"How do _you_ know Wade?" Hope shot back.

"I met him in a dark alley and he bought me tacos," Emma replied. "He knows your dad?"

"Uh, yeah... Sometimes Wade just kinda storms into our lives and he and dad go away for a while but then they come back and dad looks kinda exhausted. I babysit his daughter Ellie sometimes, too. She's cute," Hope said sheepishly. "You do know that you shouldn't eat tacos with strangers that you find in alleys, right?"

"Meh, he wasn't gonna hurt me," she replied flippantly and grabbed Hope's arm. She started dragging her towards the others.

"How the hell did you know that?" asked Hope, with just a hint of an edge to her voice. Emma raised her eyebrows and turned to look at her friend. That was the first time she'd heard Hope not say 'heck', and it kinda worried her.

"I've been in some bad places. Done some bad things. I know when someone wants to hurt me," she said carefully. Hope was instantly worried, her eyebrows furrowing and her mouth pinching a little.

"Like where?"

"Yeesh. No need to look like that, Hope," Emma said and kept dragging them along. She saw a flicker of relief cross Bucky's face when he saw her come into his field of vision.

"Don't scare your parents like that, doll," he said lowly, and Emma nodded.

"Right. Sorry."

They hit a few of the houses on their way to Layla's place, and Emma already had to guard her bag of sweets, shaped like a pumpkin, from Clint's grabby hands. Peter's bag was held by Natasha, however, and hence he couldn't get anything from it even if he tried. Darcy and Bucky had gotten some candy for their efforts too, and were currently sharing a snickers bar.

Bucky was very skeptic to eating the candy from strangers, but Darcy showed him that everything was good to eat by taking a bite out of the item at hand first and then chewing thoughtfully, and then offering him. As it turns out, chocolate tastes better when it's hot and liquid.

They knocked on Layla's apartment door, and there was shouting behind the door before a girl opened the door. She was taller and older than Layla, and smiled down at them.

"Hi Hope."

"Hi Taylor," said Hope. Taylor smiled at Emma.

"You must be Emma."

"Yup," she said, sticking her hand out. "Nice to meet you." Taylor shook her hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you too. Hang on. LAYLA!" she yelled into the apartment and left the door open. They waited and suddenly Layla came running into the living room, her track legs carrying her fast and far. She was across the room in less than a second.

She was also bedazzled with feathers.

"Stop stealing my stuff, Taylor!" she yelled and banged on a white door where it looked like Taylor could've slipped into.

"You know, that's only gonna tear your voice. Just make a glitter bomb and give it to her as an apology you don't actually mean," Emma suggested. Layla whipped around, and Emma was struck with the intensity of her outfit.

She was a ballerina, her tutu was black with black, big feathers, but they turned grey at her waist and ended in white around her neck. Layla was wearing white face paint for the occasion, and her hair was in a flawless bun.

"That's a great idea," she said, her eyes big with glee. "I'm gonna plant one as soon as I get home."

"Sounds awesome. Now skip along, miss Swan, we wanna hit a few houses before it get's scary out there," Emma replied.

Layla was soon ready to go, and as Natasha saw Layla's costume, her heart ached a little with longing. She hadn't danced in a long while. Way too long. Maybe she'd let Clint see her dance after this.

They went through a whole lot of blocks, and talked all the way through, especially the little girls. Layla made heart eyes at Bucky and called Clint hot at least twice, and Natasha found it rather cute. Darcy only smirked and patted Bucky's arm that was linked with hers.

They were in a neighborhood with a few four story buildings, when Natasha felt a tingle go down the back of her spine. Something wasn't right. She was walking next to Steve, who gave her a glance, as if he'd noticed her tense.

"It feels like we're being watched," Natasha murmured under her breath. Steve did a barely visible nod, and Natasha's fingers moved behind Peter's bag, telling Clint.

" **I've been feeling it too** ," he informed her, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

"Over us, to the left," she murmured, and Clint smiled at her, giving his surroundings a glance.

"Bucky?" Clint piped up, and Bucky's eyes turned to him. " **We're being watched.** "

" **Obviously. Left rooftop, two of them** ," he signed back, and Clint hummed.

"Any guns on you, darling?" he asked Natasha silently, and she nodded with a bump to his hip. He felt her handgun press into his side for a mere moment, and grinned. "You're such a boy scout."

"I'd say a girl scout," she suggested as her eyes trailed the rooftops from underneath the hat. "Girls, don't walk so far off!" she called, and the angel, ballerina, and their glowing friend slowed down enough so that they were closer to the adults. Bucky walked on their left side, Natasha on their right, and Clint and Darcy behind them, with Steve, Bruce, and a fast asleep Peter now in the front.

It took a while, but when they'd hit two more apartment buildings, the onlookers were gone. It was also time to go home.

Emma had so much candy in her bag it was getting heavy to carry, so she'd made Bucky carry it instead. He was the only one not likely to steal her candy and protect it fiercely only because it was hers. He even denied Darcy. Emma felt very special.

They dropped Layla and Hope back off and headed home. Emma was sleepy but wouldn't admit defeat, at least saying goodnight and getting out of her costume before she was collapsing in the bed.

"Did you brush your teeth?" Clint called from his room, and he heard a loud groan in response.

"I'll do it tomorrow!"

Clint chuckled, and Natasha padded out from the bathroom, turning the lights off in Emma's room before she came into Clint's room. She curled up under his covers as he stripped down to his boxers and slipped in beside her

"We're the best parents," he declared with a happy sigh as he threw an arm around Natasha's shoulders. She looked up at his face, his blonde eyelashes like little threads of gold on his cheeks.

"You think?" she asked quietly. Clint nodded with a yawn.

"Totally. We're the best. No doubt about it. The kid is happy as hell, has love and things. Sounds like the best life ever."

"But sometimes she's still hurting," Natasha said, her mind wandering to the countless nightmares, the times she could see Emma's hands shake with fear. 

"Yeah. But so are we. We're hurting and broken people, keeping each other together with band aids and bonds made in battlefields. But we have each other. She'll be fine."

"She will never be fine."

"But she'll be fine to the point of feeling okay. And that's all we can really ask for."

Natasha nodded thoughtfully.

"Hearing aids, Clint," she murmured, and he plucked them out of his ears with a sheepish smile. How he still forgot to take them out amazed her.

He dreaded the silence, he always did, but Natasha ran her hands through his hair gently and kept him cradled close to him in deep thought, and he fell asleep anyways.

Natasha calmed Clint unlike any noise ever could.

\---  
 


	46. Lies And Family Dinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy halloween!  
> Totally my favorite holiday, hence the huge chapter. This is being posted in the middle of the night for no other reason than that I will not have access to my computer during the whole day, becauSE I'M GOING TO COMIC CON.  
> I'm very excited. So so so very excited.  
> Enjoy, lovelies! <3

 

The next day, Emma and Bucky went to the park. Kate had agreed to meet them there and bring Lucky, because she was investigating a thing and she didn't have the heart to leave Lucky all alone.

Bucky was seated on a park bench with a mug of black coffee in his hands as Emma dashed around with Lucky after her. He was wearing a jacket that was actually Steve's, and a scarf that was Darcy's, and it still smelled vividly like her.

His infatuation with Darcy had grown drastically, and he found that he genuinely didn't want her to get hurt in any way, least of all by him. It was scary, really, how she'd managed to walk right through his defences like they were showercurtains and not ten inch walls of vibranium.

What was scarier, was that he found that he didn't care.

Darcy Lewis was a beautiful woman with good humor, a wonderful personality, and a surprising amount of cursewords. She had a spark in her that made Bucky's insides tingle. In a very scary way. _Very_ scary way.

"Emma?" he said distantly from his seat. Her head popped up from a huge pile of leaves, and he saw Lucky's tail waggle from another one a few feet over.

"Yeah?" she asked with a smile.

"Why did Darcy get to me?" Emma looked perplexed at his question, and fixed her gray hat distantly.

"Hm. I think it's because she's the kinda spitfire girl that's not afraid of you. You like that in girls." He shrugged, and she smiled again, the smile that was all sunshine and rainbows. Bucky liked that smile.

"I like you for those reasons though, and I don't like you like I like Darcy," he said, his eyes sweeping around the half empty park like the ground had ears and the trees were listening. He didn't like to say that out loud. It made him feel vulnerable and like he was putting them in danger by just being associated with them.

"Because you like-like Darcy and you like me."

"I don't like you. You're my only real friend." Emma emerged from her leaf pile and came to sit down next to him with a strange look on her face.

"You're making a paradox."

"A what?"

"A paradox. Where you say two opposite things about the same subject. You literally just said that you don't like me, but that I'm your only real friend. You're gonna have to take your pick." Bucky huffed quietly, showing frustration that his face didn't mirror.

"You're my only real friend," he decided, and Emma's lips twitched.

"Is that so? What about Darcy?"

"She's more than just a friend."

"And Steve?"

"Steve is a trusted friend."

"So we've all got our ranks, and I'm your only real friend?" Emma clarified. He gave a tiny nod. "Why?"

"You're the only one who would help me bury a body."

Emma snorted out a laugh and he smiled minimally in response, which had her tackling him in a hug. He lightly hugged her back, and she was just about to call for Lucky when her cell started ringing.

Jumping off the bench, she went off after the pile she'd seen him in last, and pulled her cellphone out, only to see a picture of a scowling Damian and "Dami" on the screen.

"Hey Dami, what's up?" she said a little breathlessly as she whistled. "Lucky!" He came darting out of a pile of leaves.

"Barton," came Damian's voice from the other side, unsure.

"Dami," she stated again as she grabbed a few leaves out of Lucky's fur and threw them to the ground. "What's going on? You only ever call me to say something dramatic about tv shows or something cryptic. I'm currently praying for tv shows."

"Hm. Yes. Well. It seems as if father and I have reached a stalemate and I will not budge," he replied, his voice tense. "I wondered if I could... Uh..."

"Come over?" Emma said helpfully with a smile as she kicked a pile of leaves.

"Now that you mention it, I assume that would be for the best." She grinned.

"Well, I'm at Central Park, burying myself and my dog in leaves, so you're gonna have to come here," she declared and grabbed a stick, hurling it into the park. "Go fetch!"

Lucky went off after it, and the silence on the other side of the line was kinda concerning.

"Damian?" she asked gently.

"Yes. Thinking," he replied, and she shrugged, and pinned the phone to her ear with her shoulder as Lucky bounded back to her, the stick in his mouth.

"Good boy! Such a good boy! I'm gonna throw it again because I'm thinking about Thor and his hammer when you run off after it. Wonder if you can catch it in the air like he can?" She threw the stick again and decided to check in on whatever Damian was thinking about, when she heard someone clear their throat.

Her head whipped up, and she found Damian standing a few feet away, in his dark coat and his hands behind his back. He looked tired, purple moons stamped underneath his eyes and his shoulders slightly slumped in defeat.

"Dami! How did you- Actually, nevermind, I don't think I wanna know," she said, and Damian sighed quietly, his breath turning into mist. Emma hung up and shoved the phone back into her pocket, then walked over to him. "You look like a zombie that was hit with a truck. Again. And again. Aaaand again."

"I promise I'm not a zombie, Barton," he said quietly, without his usual roll of the eyes or scowl. That was pretty worrying. Damian without his scowl on was definitely a bad thing.

"You okay?" she asked as she heard a bark and Lucky trotted over with his stick in his mouth. She took the stick and threw it again, and Damian watched the golden retriever go after it wordlessly. Emma poked his shoulder. "I'm not gonna repeat myself because I know that you know exactly what I said and chose not to say anything."

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking," he said quietly.

"You need to stop lying to me, because I swear to god, it will not end well," Emma declared.

"How do you know that I'm lying?" he asked, blinking at her and his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"Right now? Because you look like shit. You seriously look like you need a nap."

"I'm fine," he said dismissively. Emma didn't believe him, and he could tell, because he sighed and relented. "I'm... My father and I had an argument. It got a little more out of hand than usual, and I believe I'm to blame."

"Then apologize?" she suggested with an eyebrow raise. He huffed impatiently.

"It is not that simple." Emma hummed.

"Alright. Want some hot chocolate?" He looked surprised, and then suspicious. She rolled her eyes. "I'm letting it go. _For now_. So, was that a yes or a no on the hot chocolate? I'm feeling hot chocolate."

She whistled again, and Lucky came running. Emma played tug of war with him for a while, before she let go of the stick and let him run off over to Bucky. Grabbing Damian's reluctant arm, she dragged him over to Bucky's bench. Bucky's grey eyes were locked on Damian, and his mouth was hidden underneath Darcy's scarf. If Emma were to guess, she would say he was plotting ways to kill Damian by now.

"Bucky, this is Damian, and Damian, this is Bucky, aka my best friend in the whole wide world," she introduced, and they nodded silently at each other, brisk, short nods that proved that both of them were assholes and that Emma had a special type of friend. "Right. Can I have some money? Hot chocolate is needed. Keep an eye on Lucky."

Bucky wordlessly handed her a ten, and she hooked her arm with Damian's as they set off toward a stand by the side of the road.

"So how was your boring Halloween of staying inside?" Emma asked, and his lips quirked just that much that she could tell that he was smiling.

"Boring. Few children come all the way to the Manor for treats. Father was at a charity gala, and my brothers and I stayed in."

"That sounds nice though. Almost all of my family went out, and I now have tons of candy because of my cute cousin and skillful costume."

"I take it you had fun," he replied with a smile. "Then again, you do love Castiel a lot, so the costume was understandable." Emma blinked.

"How did you know I was Castiel?" she asked carefully. Damian's smile dropped, and he looked like he was backtracking in his mind, but his face took on an impressive blank.

"Oh. Layla told me."

"No, she didn't," Emma said with furrowed eyes and a frown. "She's still asleep. I texted her like twenty minutes ago and she didn't even reply."

"She told me last night," he replied.

"Why would she call you just to tell you what I was dressed as?"

"She told me that Hope was the girl from Tron, too." Emma's eyes narrowed.

"I'm getting real fucking tired of you lying to me. That's gonna have to stop. _Right fucking now_."

"Don't you think I want to?!" he exclaimed and ripped his arm from her grasp. His eyes flashed with anger, and his stance was now rigid, and in the corner of her eye, Emma could see Bucky starting to stand up. She whipped her hand out to stop him.

"Then stop! Stop lying to me!" she exclaimed back, unafraid.

"I can't!" Damian grit out, his gaze focused on her, and only her. "I _can't_. I want to stop, but I can't. And I need you to understand that."

"Friendship is based on trust, and I can't trust you if you keep lying to me!"

"But I can't tell you the truth," he said, his voice now low and controlled, but his eyes still flashing with anger. Emma didn't know when she'd come so close to him, but here she was, basically breathing his air.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice as quiet as his. Damian stared at her for a while. Her glare did not waiver.

Finally he laughed, a disbelieving laugh, a strange laugh, and took a step back as he stared at his feet.

"I want to tell you. So bad that I fought with father about it, which I see now was a worthless approach. There are few people in this world that can be told. He didn't understand what made you so different."

"I'm special," Emma pointed out, and his blue eyes tracked up to hers again.

"Indeed you are."

"So you're not gonna tell me your secret?"

"No. I am to keep it secret."

"Aw. Is this secret dangerous?" He didn't answer, and resumed walking. She followed him. "Silence speaks more than words."

"That's not the saying," he said with a shake of his head as she joined him. 

"You're probably right, but my saying is better."

They bought their hot chocolate and walked back to Bucky, who was now sitting with Lucky in between his legs, using his real hand to pluck some leaves out of Lucky's fur. 

Lucky sniffed Damian, who tsked, but petted the dog anyways, and took the slobbery stick when offered. 

"Lucky, was it?" he recalled, and Emma nodded with a smile. 

"Yeah. My dad calls him pizza dog though. So does Katie," she replied as they watched the dog jump around through the leaves.

"Pizza dog?" he inquired, and she shrugged.

"Something about how he came to be ours. He's great. Playful and a good bed companion." Damian hummed.

"Yes, Titus has a tendency to share my bed as well."

"Nightmares?" she asked casually as she sat down next to Bucky. Reluctantly, Damian sat down too.

"Yes. You have nightmares?"

"Mmmh. I've been raped and almost raped a lot, and held captive, and been shut into a small room, and stung with needles, and been in bad homes. I've got lots of nightmare material," she replied with a shrug. Damian stared at her, as did Bucky, and Emma calmly sipped her hot chocolate.

"How do you do that?" Damian asked.

"Do what?"

"Talk about things like that as if they were dust on your shoulders."

"Because I have closure. My parents locked the person who held me captive up, I blew the place with the needles to pieces, and no one lays a hand on me and gets away with it," she said firmly, but her voice lacked her usual spark.

"But they still hurt you when you sleep." She shrugged a little, and Bucky casually threw his arm over the backrest of the bench. She leaned a little more into him. Damian seemed in deep thought as he watched her. "Peculiar girl..." he murmured.

"What do you say we get back home, Em?" Bucky suggested, and she glanced at Damian.

"Depends. Can Damian come with us?" Bucky did a miniature shrug.

"Ask your parents." She whipped her phone out and called Natasha, who answered in two rings.

"What's the matter?" came Natasha's breathless voice.

"Uh, can Damian come over?" Emma asked. There was a grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor.

"Sure. That sounds nice."

"Who did you just smack into the carpet?"

"Tony. See you in a bit." Emma smiled.

"Bye mom!"

"Bye sweetie."

They grabbed Lucky again, and walked back to the Tower. Emma was chattering happily the whole way, and Damian offered his imput sometimes, or a tsk, or a derisive snort. When they arrived, Bucky expected the kid to be surprised, or at least freak out just a little, but he gave the tower a glance, scowled, and said

"It looks less gaudy in the newspapers."

"It is pretty gaudy," Bucky said, and Damian glanced at him in agreement.

Emma waved at the receptionist, who waved back, and they made their way to the private elevator at the end of the hall.

"Jarvis, we're home!" Emma said happily as they stepped into the elevator, and Damian raised an eyebrow in quiet inquiry.

"Agent Romanoff alerted me of your guest," Jarvis replied, and Damian squinted at the ceiling suspiciously.

"Awesome!" Emma said happily. "Take us to the common floor." She paused. "Please."

The elevator stopped a few moments later on the common floor, and before the doors had even finished sliding apart, Lucky and Bucky were out the doors, Bucky shrugging his jacket off to reveal that green shirt he loved so much and that Emma still kinda wanted to light aflame.

By the kitchen island sat Bruce and Tony. Well, at least Bruce was sitting, Tony was standing and waving his hands around wildly as they discussed something. He was still wearing the same shirt he'd worn to the gala yesterday, which proved that Steve had yet to chase him to bed, and that he was probably out with Sam.

Lucky went straight for Natasha, who was sitting by the kitchen table with a cup of tea in her hand and her feet kicked up on an Iron Man helmet underneath the table. She was reading a book with a Russian cover, and looking generally unbothered by the two geniuses arguing next to her. She acknowledged Lucky with a pat, but not much more.

Clint came in from the living room area with a bowl in his hand, apparently filled with Lucky Charms, because Tony made a strangled noise that sounded like 'how'.

Emma dragged Damian out of the elevator and decided for a dramatic flare.

"Everyone, this is Damian!" she said loudly, and Clint froze with the fridge door open. Tony stopped in the midst of his wild flailing, and Bruce turned his head with an eyebrow raise. Natasha did too, and then everyone was staring. "Damian. That's my dad, Uncle Tony, Uncle Bruce, and my mom."

Damian did a slight nod. The room kept silent.

"So this is Damian?" Tony said, the first one to break the intense staring the Avengers were currently doing. "Hm. I've seen you before."

"Damian Wayne," he supplied, and it looked a little like Tony had been struck with recognition by a small freight train.

"Wayne? Wayne Enterprises, Wayne?"

"Yes," Damian replied, his face a boring blank.

"He's rich," Emma supplied, and Damian raised his eyebrows at her.

"As if you aren't."

"Technically, no, this is all Tony's money. Maybe. I dunno. Are we rich?" she asked Clint, who was still staring at Damian, but still gave a weak shrug.

"Kinda," he said.

"Huh. Alright, so we're kinda rich."

"Doesn't your dad own, like, a city or something?" Clint asked, vaguely familiar with the Waynes. He'd heard Tony talk about them briefly, lots of tragedies in the family. Damian huffed.

"No. We don't own the city, we own a company that restores and rebuilds the city," he said, his tone bored.

"Alright, this is going great," Emma said, a forced cheer in her voice. "We're gonna go upstairs. I just wanted you all to say hi."

"You said you were adopted," Damian said out loud, glancing in between her parents.

"I am."

"Does not look that way." She smiled.

"Yeah, I hear that a lot," Emma replied, and hooked her arm with his. "Come on. Upstairs we go." Clint shot her a look that told her all she needed to know about what he thought about that, but she ignored it. He wasn't being vocal about it, and she could even see Natasha smirking over by the kitchen table, so it couldn't be all that bad.

She showed Damian their floor, and forced him out of his coat. They dropped onto the couch, and Emma threw her shoes in the general direction of the elevator. Damian had the good sense to have them off already, and she kicked her feet into the couch with a sigh.

"So. Wanna watch Netflix?"

"I'm affronted that you had to ask."

\---

By watching Supernatural, Damian had, probably accidentally, relaxed enough to have his head leaning on Emma's shoulder. He had really been lying about being fine, because soon enough, he was sleeping soundly on her shoulder. Emma had switched to Dexter so that Damian wouldn't miss any Supernatural goodness, and was currently leaning back on his head.

He smelled nice, like the way her hoodie used to, and he was warm where he pressed up against her side. All in all, it was nice, and it felt safe. Damian had been like a minor hurricane since he came into her life, with all his strangeness and all the new discoveries about him, but this was the eye of the storm. He was knocked out by her side on her couch, and the twirling winds were finally calm.

Emma sighed into his hair and smiled, so wide it almost hurt her face.

"Man, I have a type, and it is messed up," she mumbled with a huff of a laugh.

It took her another few minutes, but soon she'd managed to move Damian so he had his head settled in her lap and was lying straight out on the couch. Emma had her feet on the coffee table in front of her, and took a few breaths before she dared to run a hand through his ashen waves.

That felt nice.

So she did it again, and again. Damian had soft hair.

About halfway into the next Dexter episode, she heard a vibrating from Damian's coat, that had been discarded on the floor. She didn't wanna wake Damian up, because he looked downright exhausted(and she needed an excuse to keep running her hands through his hair), and so she did the only reasonable thing she could think of.

Emma picked Damian's phone up, and saw 'Grayson' flashing on the screen. She answered.

"Emma filling in for an exhausted Damian, what's up Grayson?" she mumbled into the phone as to not wake the sleeping boy in her lap.

"He's with you?" came Dick's relieved voice.

"Uh, yeah. We're at my place. Why, didn't he tell you where he was going?"

"No, he and B just kinda clashed in a huge fight and he stormed off. I have no clue how he even got to New York." He heaved a sigh. "Can you put him on?"

"I'd rather not. He's sleeping."

"Damian is _sleeping_?"

"You make it sound like he's grown three heads and started spitting fire."

"I just....That's very unlike him."

"That's kinda sad," Emma pointed out as she twirled a lock of Damian's dark hair around her finger.

"Tell me about it. So... He's not any trouble?"

"Nope, none at all," she replied softly as Damian sighed a little in his sleep. "He could stay for dinner. I don't think anyone would mind. Jay, run that by whoever is making dinner." She directed the request at the ceiling.

"You sure? I could come pick him up," Dick offered.

"Nah, we're good."

"Great. Where should I pick him up later then?"

"Uuuuh.... The Avengers Tower," she said. There was a moment of silence.

"Alright. Will do. Nice chat."

"See ya, Dick." She hung up, and placed the phone next to her on the couch. She threaded her hand through Damian's hair again.

"Sir has confirmed young Mr. Wayne's stay over dinner," Jarvis supplied, and Emma smiled at the ceiling.

"Awesome. You're the best, Jarvis."

 

She was more than reluctant to wake Damian when she received the text from Natasha saying it was dinnertime, but she didn't have to.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he sat up so fast he nearly slammed his head into hers, the only thing stopping their collision being Emma's squeak and quick reflexes.

"Jesus, Dami, calm down," she breathed as he gave his surroundings a glance and then blinked at her owlishly.

"Barton," he said, but it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"That's me. Come on, it's dinner," she said and hopped off the couch. Damian looked confused, and with his tousled hair and his one cheek red from being pressed against her jeans, he looked adorable. His blue eyes looked a little brighter, however that was possible.

"Dinner?" he questioned.

"It's dinnertime. Don't worry, Dick called and he knows you're safe and sound," she said as she began walking toward the elevator. She heard Damian getting up, and he soon joined her in the elevator.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he asked, his gaze falling on himself in the glass. 

"Because you looked like shit. And sleepy. So I let you sleep. It felt reasonable, so don't try to shame me into apologizing," she replied. He ran a hand through his now messy hair, and swept it to the side, but didn't mention it.

Emma looked away from him to hide her blushing. Internally she was cursing very colorfully, much like Charlie had taught her. Such a brilliant, sparkling influence, even almost a year after he left her.

The elevator doors slid open again, and they were greeted with the chaos that was an Avengers family dinner.

Kate and Sam were even here, and Emma grinned at her family. She liked calling this disastrous cluster of people her family.

"Tony made enough spaghetti to end starvation, come on kids!" came Darcy's voice from the general commotion, and Emma grabbed Damian's arm and dragged him to the dinner table.

After a few more introductions, Damian and Emma dug in. Tony wasn't the worst cook in the tower, far from it, and the food was tasty. Pasta with tomatosauce and meatballs.

Damian stayed mostly silent throughout the dinner, until everyone was forcing the last scraps of their food into their mouths, all of them content and sated.

"So, Damian," said Clint from the other side of the table, and all eyes turned to Emma's guest. He gave an eyebrow raise in reply, and Emma had to hide her smile behind her hand. "What do you wanna be when you grow up?" Damian tsked.

"I have no choice in that," he replied.

"Sure you do," Emma said, poking his ribs. "You can be anything. With your smarts and all."

"I am to take over the company," he replied, and Emma raised her eyebrows.

"Why? You're the youngest."

"Yes, but I'm the only son bound to him by blood."

"Couldn't Dick take over?" Emma asked.

"Dick?" Sam questioned, and Tony made a dismissive hand gesture.

"Oldest brother. Good kid," he explained.

"Grayson is a police officer and would rather 'light fire to his own hair before he ever took over the company'," Damian said, his tone indicating the air quotes. Emma grinned.

"What about Tim?

"I'm not sure. Grayson is already complaining about the way he acts regarding the company. He could easily crash and burn under the pressure of it," Damian replied, calmly. "I believe he's already halfway there. Just needs a little push."

"It sounds like you're already plotting his demise," Clint said with a laugh. Damian tilted his head a little in consideration, and Emma slapped his arm.

"Stop plotting Tim's demise!" she laughed, and Damian rolled his eyes, even as a smile tugged at his lips. "It's not nice."

"I'm not very nice when they're not very nice."

"Don't torment your brother. S. Brothers."

"They torment me."

"Then be the bigger person. Or get the ultimate revenge. Honestly, now I'm voting for option two. We could totally get their asses." A smirk tugged on Damian's lips, and Emma smirked back.

"Itching powder in their clothes?" Damian suggested.

"Mm, too small. Go big or go home."

"I like the way you think."

"Oh my god, they're plotting together. Like tiny, evil conspirators. We're all gonna die," Darcy said and slung her arm around Bucky's neck. He shifted further down in his chair as to not strain her arm.

"No evil scheming at the dinnertable," Steve chided, and Emma laughed.

"We'll go scheme upstairs then," she said and grabbed Damian's arm to tug him up. He went willingly, and they put their dishes in the sink before going to the elevator. The Avengers and their guests watched silently as they disappeared, and then  Darcy sighed.

"Okay, now you all have to make a deal with me," she said, giving them all a pointed glare. "If they have a childish break up, none of you get to kill him."

"They're not even dating," Jane protested, and Kate scoffed.

"Come on, she was giving him moon eyes. She likes him," she said certainly.

"Of course she does," said Clint with a scoff. "Doesn't mean they'll actually start dating."

"They're kids," Bruce said dismissively. "They won't be serious about it." 

Bucky made a strained noise, as if it pained him to speak up, and all eyes simultaneously turned on him.

"Damian is a life-or-death kind of kid," he said slowly, considering how he was going to word this. If anything, he knew what the kid was like. "If they ever start dating, which I'm thinkin' is gonna take a while in any case, he's not gonna let it go because of something childish. He's too serious for that."

"But what if Emma does something that he thinks is childish?" Darcy asked carefully. Bucky huffed.

"He's not gonna let her go over something childish. They had a blow-out in the park and she looked like she was going to punch his lights out-"

"Attagirl," Clint mumbled under his breath.

"-but she didn't, and he didn't punch her. They're both two springs ready to snap. Either they're bound to be best friends or worst enemies."

"Should we steer them away from each other?" Tony asked conspirationally. Natasha scoffed.

"Our daughter isn't stupid," she said calmly, leaning back in her chair and unconsciously into the arm that Clint had slung over the back of her chair. "She's bound to know if we try something like that. It's life-or-death with her too."

"And she said she was going to find a middle ground," Clint tsked. "She's just as trusting as we are." Kate hummed happily.

"Sucker," she muttered.

"So what, we just let them continue to be friends until they start going out and break up, and deal with the aftermath?" Steve said, uncomfortable and uncertain as he wiped Peter's small hands.

"Welcome to being the clean-up crew," Darcy said, and raised her nearly empty glass in a toast with a bitter smile.

\---

"Castiel and Dean need to kiss," Emma said loudly, and Damian tsked from the couch. She was on the floor, relaxed and splayed out on the carpet.

"There is indeed a huge amount of tension in between them," he admitted.

"Poor Sam. All the awkwardness much tear on his little soul," she sighed.

"Of course, I believe-" Damian cut himself off mid sentence, and Emma looked back at him in confusion. He was holding his phone and frowning.

"What?" she asked, but he only made a noise of displeasure, before answering the phone.

"What do you want?" he asked as he put the phone on speaker for no obvious reason. Emma took that as her queue to eavesdrop freely, and carefully got up on all fours, crawling back over to the couch.

" _Dami, get your ass down here_ ," a dark voice said over his phone, and Damian scowled.

"Where's Grayson?" Damian asked.

" _Busy, he sent me, so come give your big brother a hug_ ," the voice said sarcastically, and Damian rolled his eyes.

"You are not my brother anymore."

" _Thank fucking god for that. Get down here or I'll just leave your sorry ass_."

"You're very commanding for a whipped man," Damian sneered.

" _Bye brat_." The line clicked, and Damian frowned his displeasure as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

"Was that your brother?" Emma asked she got off the floor and as Damian wrestled his coat back on.

"Technically, yes," Damian supplied as they walked to the elevator together. "Legally, no."

"You have a lot of adopted brothers, huh?"

"I do," he replied. "For now, it's just two and a half."

"A half?"

"Yes, Todd isn't really my brother. Father adopted him, and he... Hm. He isn't legally my brother anymore, which is fortunate for him and Grayson," Damian said.

"How so?" Damian scowled and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Emma's eyebrows rose.

"I'm sure they perform most unbrotherly activities."

"Oh."

"Yes. 'Oh'," Damian said with a scowl as the doors opened, and they walked out on the curb together, where a guy with a bike similar to Steve's stood.

He looked a lot like Damian in a sense, same black hair and the same air of 'fuck you I'm the shit'. His eyes were blue, but much greener than Damian's, and he had a twirl of white hair by his right temple. Other than that, he didn't look like he was older than twenty-three, and he had a playful smirk on smooth lips. If she'd been anyone else but the daughter of two super spies and assassins, she wouldn't have noticed the guns and knives he had hidden on his person.

"Dangerous. Seems to be a family theme," Emma noted out loud, and Damian gave her a sharp grin, dangerous. A tingle went down her spine.

"Yes, I quite like that assessment," Damian said.

"Hey Dami!" the guy, Jason Emma guessed, said, his voice gruff and filled with mischief. "This your girlfriend?" he asked, gave Emma an assessing look. Jesus christ, the Wayne boys and giving her assessing looks.

"She is female and she is my friend," Damian said, aiming his signature glare at the older boy.

"I'm not his girlfriend," Emma clarified. "And you're... Jason, I'm gonna guess?"

"Yeah," Jason said, smirking at her. "And who are you?"

She looked up at the tower.

"Um. I'm Black Widow and Hawkeye's kid, Emma. Nice ride," she said. He showed only minimal surprise.

"Thanks. You didn't tell me about her family?" Jason said slightly wearily. Damian seemed to take some satisfaction in his weariness, and Emma just smirked at Damian as he grabbed a black helmet from the back of the bike.

"Irrelevant. She certainly doesn't need her parents to be intimidating," he said. Emma grinned wider.

"If you get that, maybe you should be my boyfriend after all," she laughed. Damian looked a little surprised, and Jason raised his eyebrows. "Bye Damian. Bye scary big almost-not-really brother Jason."

Emma turned on her heel and walked away, doing the walk that Natasha had taught her.

_Like you've got the whole world at your feet._

The two boys by the bike stood in silence for a few seconds, looking after her.

"Black Widow's kid, huh? No shit," Jason muttered. "I'm so telling Dickie you've got a girl-"

"Shut up, Todd."

\---


	47. Little Talks And Rooftops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, this turned out pretty angsty... Brace yourselves.  
> Tho you get to know some stuff you've been asking for ;)  
> Enjoy<3

 

There was something bothering Natasha, and Clint knew it. He knew it because he knew his partner, and because she was spending more time at Shield, doing things he didn't ask about. If it was something important, she would tell him. Clint didn't doubt that for one second.

But... He was really fucking curious.

The mission that had ended with them, yet again, in Budapest, had ended pretty abruptly when Maria's team had found something Clint wasn't allowed to know about and ended it.

Technically, he was supposed to be punished for interrupting a mission he wasn't even actually authorized to know about, but Fury had only sighed tiredly when he and Natasha entered the debriefing room, and given him that look that said 'you didn't fuck up', before he started reprimanding him for his carelessness.

So he got away with it because he rescued three agents from probable death, and because he was just that awesome. What wasn't very awesome, was the desk duty he was stuck with for a month. It was so mind-numbingly boring that he kept wondering what Natasha was doing.

Clint first addressed it when he came to bed one night, with Natasha in one of his sleep shirts and in his bed, and she was on her tablet, looking tired in a way that wasn't physical.

"Nat, you have to tell me what you're doing. There is literally no reason in the world for you to look that tired whilst staring at a tablet unless it's something shitty," he said as he got his pants off. Natasha looked up at him with a soft smile grazing the corners of her mouth.

"It's pretty shitty. You know Emma's biological parents?" Clint slowed his movements, with his shirt halfway over his head.

"What about 'em?" he asked cautiously. Natasha took a quiet breath.

"The Winter Soldier killed them."

Clint stood stock still.

"The Winter Soldier?" Natasha gave a small, weary nod. Clint's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand over his face with a groan.

"Does she know that?"

"No. From what Bucky has told me, he intends on keeping it so."

"No no no no," Clint said quickly. "That's such a bad idea. The longer he goes without telling her, the worse it will be when she finds out."

"It will be disastrous either way," Natasha sighed. "And it gets worse." Clint wrung his shirt off fully now, and crawled into the bed.

"Of course it does," he said in a monotone.

"I ran her DNA through the Shield base. Turns out her parents were with Shield," she said and turned the tablet towards him. Two faces stared back at him, their names blacklined on the screen.

The woman's face was heartshaped and her lips slim, with blonde, wavy hair to her shoulders. Her eyes were dark green, and her gaze blank. The typical Shield pose.

The man, his hair was red, with a bright ferocity that Emma's hair shared, and his blue eyes were dark, more menacing than anything. He had a wide set face, and a nose that looked like it had been broken at least twice.

All in all, he understood why people thought Emma was their kid.

"That's creepy as hell," he said, and Natasha nodded.

"I don't have the security clearance to access further data, except when they died and their birthdates. Not even their names. I'm assuming they were deep in some cover. Had been for a couple of years. Their dates of death match with what Emma's told us."

"Years?" Clint questioned, his eyebrows nearly touching the skies. "What were they after?"

"Don't have the clearance for that."

"Have you asked Tony to hack Shield yet?"

"He does that on a nearly daily basis."

"Yeah, so ask him to hack this."

"I can hack too, Barton," Natasha said, and Clint nodded.

"I know. 'Sn't mean you can't ask for help sometimes. Teammates do that," he said and flopped onto his back in the bed, his one hand coming to rest on her thigh. Not even in an intentionally sexual way, just someplace to rest. His calloused hand on the soft skin of her thigh, and he feels anchored in a sea that drags him in every and any direction.

There was a beat of silence, and then she was running her hand through his hair.

"I know. I won't though. You know that too." Clint makes a humming noise as his eyes drift closed. He likes the slight scrape of nails against his skull, and her gentle tugging.

"So what are you gonna do with the info you get, then? Are you gonna tell Emma her best friend killed her biological parents and therefore set off literally every bad thing that has ever happened to her, ever?"

Natasha worried her lower lip and huffed.

"I just want to know."

"If you find out what their names were, tell me. I wanna know too." She was silent for a while.

"There are two people in this entire building that knows Emma's full name."

"Mm. There's a possibility that Darcy knows."

"No. Bucky wouldn't betray Emma's trust like that."

"But she's his girlfriend."

"Yes, she is, but Bucky knows that Emma wants her names to be a secret," Natasha explained. "If she thinks something should be secret, then he agrees."

"You know she goes by Barton in school?" Clint said and opened his eyes with a grin up at her.

"Yes, I know. It's cute." Clint beamed.

"It is, isn't it?" Natasha rolled her eyes with a small smile and placed the tablet on the nightstand, turning the light out.

"Hearing aids," she reminded him as she slid down next to him. Clint was always wary about taking his hearing aids out at night. Because some, hardwired, pushed down part of him still didn't feel safe, didn't want to become vulnerable. Natasha knows that, and she also knows that he only really takes his hearing aids out when he's sleeping in the same bed as her.  
Grumbling, he put them into the little plastic box on his nightstand, before sliding his arms around her and pulling her close.

He planted a soft kiss onto her head and felt her smile against his neck.

Natasha had his back.

\---

Her eyes were locked on the screen as she drummed her nails on the table top. Natasha knew what she was doing when it came to hacking, and here she was, staring at Alice and Jonah Smith.

They'd been gearing up to knock down a Hydra base down a couple of pegs, when Alice had gotten pregnant and forced out of commission. Without any backup, Jonah had stepped down, and hadn't tried anything with the base. They'd rooted themselves so deep into the community that they didn't leave when the baby was born.

Which cost them their lives.

They did a few missions together and apart, even as parents of an infant, small missions that were probably very boring for agents only a level below Natasha's own. They'd only just managed their huge blow-out with a Hydra base a few towns over when their child turned seven.

And after that, nothing. Radio silence. Their house was found burned down, their bones found, but never their daughter's. Natasha chewed on her lip as she stared at the woman with the inviting face on the screen next to her, her dark green eyes staring back at her.

Natasha swiped through the files to the last check-in call on the two agents, and read Alice Smith's last words.

" _Emma is waking up. I think that's her. J, love, go check, would you? You know she gets worried._ "

She forced all the air out of her lungs and rubbed her eyes as she imagined a man with red hair and blue eyes get out of the bed to check on his daughter and being stabbed before he got anywhere. She imagined a woman with blonde hair being pushed into the bed and having a knife pushed through her ribcage as the blood spread over the sheets. She imagined Emma, age seven and with more baby fat, seeing her fathers dead hand on the floor where he lay, collapsed, and she could imagine the scream any small child would've made at that age.

But instead she saw the Emma she knew now, still small but _so_ much stronger, and she saw her run. She saw her run far away from her house as it was lit aflame, and it hurt her to think like that.

Natasha logically knew that Bucky had been brainwashed and been calling himself 'the asset' at the time, but she couldn't help the bubble of anger in the pit of her stomach as she thought about him doing this, Bucky, her daughters best friend.

She knew, _logically_ , that he'd been punished two times over for what he did. There were days when he looked ready to jump off a cliff, and days where he didn't talk to anyone but Emma, if even that. She knew all of this, and she still lashed out at him when she came home.

It was unexpected, she was just standing there, talking to Jane over the kitchen counter, when Bucky came into the room, and she couldn't help it.

Her fist collided with Bucky's cheekbone, and he made a surprised noise, but he quickly recovered, and blocked her next blow with practiced ease.

"What the fu-" he grunted, and Natasha slammed the heel of her hand firmly into his sternum.

" **I've trained you, Natalia, don't try me** ," he grit out in Russian as she grabbed a plate from the table, throwing it at him. He shielded himself with his metal arm, and gave her a confused look.

"Don't fucking call me that!" Natasha yelled in English, and Jane had ducked behind the counter by the time punches started flying, probably calling someone to come and stop them. Most probably Steve. That's good. Someone should probably stop her.

" **Then stop this!** " Bucky said, his breathing labored in a way it shouldn't be already. Was it from restraining himself or her? She came at him again, aiming at his face and stomach and the parts of him that were easiest to get, but he blocked her every blow, never once returning the favor. She wasn't growing frustrated, she was growing methodical, her punches more aimed than ever. " **Natalia!** "

Bucky dodged her blow and rammed her hand into the wall with force.

" **What. Are. You. Doing** ," he ground out. Natasha stared at where he was still pinning her hand down, and growled.

" **You killed them.** "

" **You have to be more specific**."

" **Her parents. You killed them. I can't let that go unpunished**." She whipped her still free hand out, and it was an odd angle, but she managed to get him in the stomach hard enough for him to let her hand go.

She kicked him square in the chest, and he regained his balance enough to go into a defensive position when the doors to the elevator opened and Steve _and_ Clint came running in.

"Widow! Stand. Down," came Steve's Captain voice, and Natasha bared her teeth in a growl.

" **What did he do?** " Clint asked in Russian, his eyes apprehensive and snapping in between the two.

" **She's angry that I killed your daughter's parents** ," Bucky said. Natasha nearly lunged at him again, the only thing stopping her was Steve's sharp retort of her name.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'm pretty sure it's not worth hurting each other for," Steve said firmly, the innocent soul. Natasha laughed, a wracked laugh that was forced out of her lungs and that made Clint's eyes darken with understanding.

"Tasha," he said gently, and she straightened up, running her hands through her hair. She took a deep breath, and then she punched Bucky one more time, squarely in the face. Her knuckles were bruised, but he fell without resistance, and ran his tongue over his teeth to make sure none were loose.

"Natasha!" Steve nearly shouted and fell by his friend, offering him a hand up. Bucky showed the first sign of irritation since she'd started hitting him, his brows furrowed and his mouth turned just the tiniest bit downwards

" **What do you want me to do? Say 'I'm sorry'?** " Bucky grit out, and Natasha considered it.

"Da."

"You can't be serious."

"I can't?" she challenged. Bucky glared at her, and Steve didn't look like he liked being talked over.

"Yeah," Clint said slowly. "We're gonna have to talk about this. No hitting allowed."

\---

"I was brainwashed," Bucky said, his voice monotone as Natasha stared at him with daggers in her eyes. Something had sparked all this anger in her, and he wondered if it was the information she'd just shared with him or the fact that the Red Room hadn't beaten all of her maternal feelings out of her.

"I know."

"I thought we decided that whatever we did in the past isn't us anymore, Natalia."

"This is different. You're going to apologize."

"That's a bad idea."

"Yeah, I hate to break it to you, Nat," Clint said from his chair, leaning on his knees. "But that sounds like a horrible idea."

"It's not," she pressed. "She deserves to know."

"It still sounds like a pretty bad idea," Clint said.

"Trust me. She needs to know."

Clint groaned and ran a hand over his face.

"Fine. If you destroy our kid I'll be angry with you. Very angry," Clint said with a stern glare at Bucky, who only gave a sad, small smile.

"You know I will," he said quietly.

Conveniently, Emma came rushing in from the elevator, with a desperate look on her face.

"Don't hurt him!" she exclaimed, her eyes aimed at Natasha. Then she took a look around the room again, and noticed the adults sitting down and not hitting each other. She dropped her book bag on the floor by the elevator. "I came home and Jane said you guys were punching each other and, like, yelling in Russian. When all of you yell in Russian it's always something bad."

Natasha gave Bucky a pointed look, and he stood up with a sigh.

"Come on, doll. We need to talk," he said. Emma mock-gasped.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky's eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not..."

"Saying 'we need to talk' is usually the start of a break up," Emma explained as she flopped over the back of the couch. "I was joking."

"Oh."

Bucky sat down on the coffee table and Natasha got up from her chair, soon joined by Clint who decided that he'd need a little less space between him and Natasha for him to cope. Emma watched them expectantly. Bucky mulled over how to word everything.

"Your parents were agents," he then said gruffly, and Emma raised an eyebrow, glancing at Natasha and Clint.

"They still are, aren't they?"

"Beatrice and Theodore." Emma's whole body tensed like a string ready to snap, and Clint had nearly forgotten that Emma wasn't the carefree kid she looked to be. Her fingers gripped a pillow, and her eyes flickered towards the possible exits. She looked at the walls like they had ears and eyes that stared her down.

Natasha was just about to correct Bucky, because that wasn't their names, when she noticed Clint's coffee cup on the table was starting to rattle. Emma was...scared? 

"Don't say their names," she whispered with huge eyes, so quiet that Clint had great trouble hearing it, even with his super good hearing aids. A cover. Alice and Jonah was their cover. Natasha was baffled that Shield didn't even have their real names left on the servers. 

"They don't like it when you say their real names," Bucky stated, his eyes locked with Emma's. She shook her head. Swallowed hard.

"Mommy and daddy or nothing at all."

"What were they called at PTA meetings?" Clint asked gently. Emma didn't answer, and Bucky repeated the question, not breaking eye contact still. It looked a little like she was hypnotized, the way she kept his gaze as she curled further in on herself, her walls up.

"Alice and Jonah." A cover. How could Natasha not have understood that?

"Where could you call them Bea and Theo?" 

"Never," she whispered. "But I don't understand, it's their names, not their nicknames and she was never Alice, and he was never Jonah to me..."

"It's alright," Natasha said, her voice calm and firm, trying to soothe away the frazzled look Emma was giving Bucky. "You're not with Bea and Theo anymore. What were their last names? Not their nicknames."

"Darkholme. Bea and Theo Darkholme. Like daddy's mom," Emma said, blinking and sinking back into the couch, her eyes flittering towards Clint and then Natasha.

Darkholme? Clint recognized that name.

"Why are we talking about this?" she asked, her face going a little white. Bucky braced himself.

"I killed your parents."

It took a few moments for the words to seemingly sink in.

"You..." Emma began, her face blank of any and all emotion.

"I killed Bea and Theo Darkholme and was supposed to kill their daughter, but I never found her," he said slowly.

"Because I ran," Emma replied breathlessly. "Mommy told me that if I heard strange noises in the night I was supposed to tell her, but then..." Emma's eyes seemed a little glazed, her breathing a little more frantic. "Someone was opening their door. Mommy had told me to get out and go. So I did."

She stared blankly at Bucky, who stared just as blankly back.

"I'm...sorry."

It's the first time she's ever heard those words pass his lips, and even as he tries to get them out, he stumbles over them. It feels like it isn't enough, like the words fall flat in front of him, like they aren't good enough, and they're not. They're not even nearly enough. He wouldn't be surprised if she never wanted to talk to him again.

"You really are?" Emma asked quietly, blinking rapidly. Bucky nodded.

"I'm s-sorry I hurt your family. I'm sorry I hurt _you_." Bucky bit his tongue. Whatever happened to that empty feeling in his chest? He kinda misses it now that he sees Emma's hurt and shock and pain. He's only ever felt this tightness in his chest a few times since he started remembering things, and this time it's so tight it _hurts_.

Emma swallowed a few times, her jaw clenched as she processed this new information. Her eyes were burning with unushed tears, and she had forgotten how it felt like she had lost a limb. She remembered few things from her biological parents, but she remembered that night. Emma remembered the way her heart pounded in her ears as she ran, running on bare feet. She has scars on her feet from always running and running and running, and she hates it.

For once, she doesn't want to run. Emma doesn't want to run away from this. She's safe, she's safe, and Bucky killed her parents. It's not entirely okay. Not really. But it's okay enough. Imagine how ordinary she would have turned out without him.

She swipes at the first tear impatiently, and gives Bucky a tiny nod that makes the pinched look on his face clear out for a few seconds. And then she's patting the place next to her on the couch, and he jumps at the opportunity.

Bucky tenatively draped an arm over the backrest, and she snuggled into him with a ferocity she rarely uses, but she needs to know that this isn't the same man who she now knows killed her parents, and that this is _Bucky_ , not the Winter Soldier.

Obligingly, he wrapped his arms around her, and she grabbed onto his metal arm hard enough to make the metal creak a little.

"Careful, doll," he said quietly, and her hand loosened.

"Sorry," she muttered into his chest, inhaling the faint linger of smoke and cologne. Yeah. This was Bucky. Her Bucky.

\---

Bucky stayed with Emma the rest of the day. She was surprisingly happy to have him. He sat by her when she did her homework and let her crawl into his lap whenever she wanted to, and hug him. She was overly affectionate, and he returned it to the grade he knew he could.

She was in his lap on the couch with his metal hand in hers so that she could poke at the fingers and see them respond to the action, and he was just sitting there, watching her ministrations. Darcy leaned on the doorframe.

"Stealing my boyfriend, Em?" she asked teasingly, and both of them looked up. Bucky frowned in confusion, and Emma grinned, albeit a little weakly.

"She's a kid," he said slowly, trying to understand what she was getting at.

"She's kidding," Emma supplied with a light brush of her fingers against his hand again.

"Oh."

"You two are attached at the hip today," she said with a slight smile. "You okay?" Darcy's warm hand fell on Bucky's shoulder, and he was yet again reminded of the warmth these two women showed him. Despite everything he'd ever done. It made him a little light headed, and he nodded towards Darcy.

When would she know he wasn't worth the fight?

He was hard to read, hard to understand, and hard to cope with. When would Darcy notice? When would _Emma_? The thought scared him so deeply he felt nausea curl in his stomach.

"Yeah. I'm okay," he said quietly. Darcy smiled brightly at him, and Bucky got up from the couch, effectively getting Emma to stand up in confusion too. "Let's go up to the roof, doll."

Emma gave him a strange look but nodded, and they grabbed their coats from the coat hanger in the kitchen, getting into the elevator after Bucky had given Darcy a fierce kiss goodbye. He'd found out that it was the best way of silent communication they shared.

They stepped out into the cold, and Emma pulled her gray hat down over her ears as they walked over to the edge.

"So... What's with the roof?" Emma asked as she sat down on the edge of the building. Bucky felt a pang of nerves as he sat down next to her. She could fall off at any moment.

"The roof is never being recorded. With sound at least." Emma huddled into her bright jacket and nodded.

"So you wanna talk secrets?" she said, tilting her head at him with her wide, inquisitive eyes.

"Big secrets," he replied. Emma whistled.

"Alright. Shoot." Bucky took a heavy breath.

And he told her about the things he'd done.

Bucky told her what he remembered, the fragments and pieces of the things he could still mull over and see clearly, and the things he just knows that he's done. He tells her about the way it felt. Like nothing. And he knows now he should've felt something, anything at all, but he can't remember feeling a thing.

And Emma holds his hand and listens and leans on his arm and when he feels something burn in his eyes, she wipes the one tear from his cheek. She's everything. She's the reason he's still standing up. She's the reason he can cope with everything. And Bucky has missed her.

"You've done some shitty things," she whispers when he finds his voice sounding thick and uncomfortable. "We've both done some shitty things. I like that I'm not the only person who has some bad stuff done."

They sat there in silence for a while, just gazing out over the high skyscrapers and lights of New York City, still bustling with life at this time.

"I think Damian's an assassin," Emma said suddenly, and Bucky nodded carefully.

"I think you're onto something there." She nodded back.

"I've missed you lately. Now that summer's over, we can't hang out as much."

"How about a midnight chocolate tonight?" he asked carefully, and relaxed a little as Emma grinned brightly at him.

"That sounds great," she declared, when something white fell into her hair. His eyes locked onto it immediately, and his mind went off on ways to remove toxins from skin without damaging it too badly, when he felt something cold and wet fall on his nose. Emma's eyes widened.

"Is that..." she mumbled when they noticed the air filling with white, small specks. Bucky stared numbly when Emma let out a happy squeal. "Bucky, it's _snowing_!!

\---


	48. Breaking And Entering Runs In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHIT GOES DOWN  
> okay fine some shit goes down at least

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all for me this lovely day, thank u all for reading and commenting and giving me tips and, I just wanna tell you guys, you're the cats pajamas. Thank you for being awesome, and enjoy! <3

 

Emma met Damian's dad the next time she went over to his house, and decided that she prefered the son a lot more than the father. Bruce acted like kind of an airhead, acted being key word here. She knew when someone was putting up a show, she'd been in one for years, but she was smart enough not to say anything about it.

"What's this place?" Emma asked as she pushed a heavy oak door open. She was inspecting the Manor more now, and Damian was following her, bemused.

"The fencing room. Father has added a sparring mat recently," he supplied. At those words, Emma's eyes lit up, and she immediately grabbed his hand to drag him into the room.

There was a fencing mat, a piste Damian informed her, on the floor, a few ornament swords on the walls, and a scoreboard on the wall next to it. A sparring mat was in the far corner, and Emma hummed happily.

"Were you cut up from one of these?" she asked with a nudge towards the wall with swords. His face scrunched up a little.

"No."

"Huh. You must keep secret sables around then," she suggested as she moved toward the sparring mat. "You any good at this?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

"Oh really? I thought all of your injuries came from sparring with your brothers. Do you really suck that much?" she asked, teasingly, a challenge behind the words. Damian's eyes darkened with determination, and he stepped toward the mat in a few long strides.

"I'll show you just how good I am," he replied.

She shedded her socks and threw them at him, which made him screech with disgust as she laughed and yanked her thick cardigan over her head. Clint was such a mother hen now that the cold had struck. He would be freezing his ass off in a goddamn vest, but she had to wear a thick sweater with a t-shirt underneath or he would straight up refuse to drive her to school.

"You're fighting in jeans?" he asked with an amused look. Emma stared down on her white-washed jeans, soft in all the right places. They were getting a little short and now that she was actually eating regularly, they were harder to squeeze into.

"Yup. And I'm gonna beat you in jeans," she shot back.

"Don't be so sure."

He attacked first, lashing out at her in a neat swing of fist that hit her in the shoulder. Would have hit her in the shoulder. Emma dodged the punch and snagged his arm to the side, throwing him off balance and bringing her knee up into his gut. He grunted but recovered quickly, showing his true brilliance by deflecting her kick and hitting her in the shoulder, hard enough to rock her back on her heels.

Oh, sparring with Damian was _fun_.

Fighting Natasha was futile, Steve was getting boring to spar with even though he knew that he couldn't hurt her, the sap, but fighting Damian was downright exhilarating.

He didn't fight like Natasha, swift and by using her weaknesses against her, or like Steve, defend, defend, defend. He fought like her, one targeted goal and to win. It was probably a kinda childish tactic, but it worked for them. Especially Emma.

She had him on his knees when she grabbed his wrists and wrestled him to the ground, pinning him down. They took a moment to get out of their battle trance, and she stared at the blue eyed boy with slightly flushed cheeks underneath her.

Ah, hell. What happened to her no crushes rule?

"You're not clumsy," Emma breathed, focusing on more pressing matters. Yeah, he was good, but why the hell was he _this_ good? Damian stared back at her with pure shock like fireworks in his eyes.

"Neither are you," he breathed back. They kept up the staring for a while, breaths coming in pants and Emma still straddling Damian, with his feet pinned too. Her necklace with the swallow was hanging in between them, dangling in the air that both of them were breathing. "How did you get this good?"

"I've got superhero parents," she said with a huff of a laugh, one of her fingertips grazing his palm. She noticed that he was fully aware of what her finger was doing, but she really wasn't. Out of control fingers, reel yourself in! "And a very tricky past. How about you?"

"Something of the like," he huffed back, his eyes redirecting from hers. Since he wasn't looking at her eyes, Emma's locked on his lips. There were slightly opened, to make it easier to breathe after their hard sparring session.

His tongue slipped out to wet his lips, and Emma acted on instinct as she leaned further down, both of their eyes slipping shut and she could feel his breath on her skin, his-

"Hrm hrm."

Emma was off Damian so fast she nearly twisted her ankle, and Damian scrambled to his feet with her, the timer next to them fizzing with electricity. Shit. Getting caught trying to kiss Damian wasn't something her powers were prepared for. She did the breathing Bruce had told her to do whenever it went out of control, and stared over at the two people now in the room. Alfred Pennyworth was standing in the doorway with two water bottles on a tray, with Damian's father next to him.

"Father," Damian blurted, and Emma could feel her face become as red as her hair along with Damian's. Alfred looked dryly amused, and Bruce looked calculating.

"Water, young miss and master?" Alfred said and approached them, a reluctant Bruce trailing behind.

"U-uh, yeah, thanks Alfred," Emma said, grabbing one of the bottles. Damian seemed as reluctant as his father, but still reached out and took the water bottle. 

Alfred walked away, but Bruce stayed, looking between Emma and Damian. The silence became uncomfortable pretty quickly, and Emma sighed.

"Right. Well then. As much as I enjoy this awkward silence, I feel the need to tell it to leave," she said. Damian looked like she'd just deliberately stepped loudly and forcefully on a mine, but she rolled her eyes at him. Bruce seemed to mull over her words for a little, then gave her a small smile that she could tell for once was genuine.

"Right. I believe I still have somethings to finish before dinner."

"Awesome. We'll see ya there," she said with a wave. Bruce turned around and walked out the door again, closing it after him with a resounding click. Emma stared triumphantly at the door.

"You devious, wonderful thing," Damian murmured quietly, and Emma grinned at him. "One equally matched to me. How peculiar."

"One equally matched to you? I just beat your ass," Emma said playfully, stepping back and gracefully going into a backbend and over.

"You are more flexible than I am, I must admit," Damian smirked, a teasing smirk that made Emma nearly lose her balance. "You have grace on your side. But I am far from ungraceful."

Emma laughed at that and got up on her hands.

"Show me then."

Damian did. He curled into a handstand in a nearly fluid motion, and she proceeded to walk over to him on her hands.

"Show off," he grunted, and Emma giggled.

"Don't think that I won't tip you over just because I like you."

Damian promptly fell on his ass in a _very_ ungraceful manner. Emma tutted.

"Like me?" he managed to get out from his upside-down pile of limbs.

"Yeah." He was silent for a while.

"I like the... Way that you know how to... break collarbones..." Emma grinned.

"I don't know why that flatters me, but it kinda does." He rolled over on his back to look at her as she balanced all her weight slowly on one of her hands.

"Now you're really being a show off."

"I'm not a show off, I'm a performer. There's a difference, Dami." He snorted and his lips tugged. She still wanted to kiss him. Aaah shit.

"You sound like Grayson."

"I heard 'you sound awesome'." Damian tsked, but didn't comment. "Is your dad really strict?"

"Hm. I've been told he is."

"You don't think so?" Damian shrugged noncommittally, and she sighed.

"Still can't tell me your secret?"

"No." Emma put both her hands down and got up on her feet, feeling the blood rush back down to settle in more normal places. She plopped down next to Damian on the sparring mat. 

"Alright. Wanna go again?" He gave her the same sharp grin that always made her tingle, and nodded.

"Of course."

\---

Emma ate dinner with the Waynes, and then Natasha came and picked her up. It was Dick that alerted them of her presence, and when they came down to the hall, they found Natasha and Jason watching each other warily.

"Hi mom!" Emma said happily as she bounded over to Natasha. Her green eyes left Jason to smile at her daughter.

"Hi возлюбленный. What happened to your face?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she saw a scrape on Emma's cheek. Natasha briefly wondered if Tony could help her get away with murdering a billionaire's son, but brushed the initial bloodthirst off.

"Oh, me and Dami were sparring. I'm kind of a dirty fighter," she said with a shrug. When Natasha didn't seem to be buying it, Emma poked at a spot where she knew Damian'd have a bruise. He supplied the reaction she'd aimed for, a sound and sliding away from her finger. "See? Sparring."

"Oh _really_?" Jason said, his eyebrows raising.

"When did you even get here?" Damian asked with his usual scowl and narrowed eyes, and Jason grinned.

"When you and angelface went up to your room again," he replied.

"Hey! I should be calling _you_ angelface," Emma said as she tugged her shoes on. Natasha gave Jason a look that made him take a step back toward the kitchen, and Damian decided that he liked Barton's mother.

"Is that a compliment?"

"No. Yes. Kinda." She grabbed her coat from Alfred's waiting hands and thanked him as she shrugged it on. Natasha was wearing a light winter coat, black of course, and a hat that she knew for a fact that Steve had knit her. It was red, white, and blue, obviously, and something the famous Black Widow wouldn't be caught dead in.

But Steve had put a lot of work into it, and Clint was being annoying about not freezing her ears off. It would have been more annoying had he not been nipping at her ear as he said it.

"See you at school, Dami!" Emma said happily, ever the ray of sunshine, and threw her arms around the, yet again, stock still Damian. A weary hand patted Emma's back, and she beamed even more as she pulled back.

"Obviously."

Alfred held the door open and Emma and Natasha walked out. Emma waved goodbye, and Damian numbly waved back. Jason started humming, low under his breath but loud enough for Damian to hear.

"Emma and Damian, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-ouhf!"

"Shut up, you absolute disgrace of a man!"

 

"So how was school today?" Natasha asked, and found herself wondering when those had become a regular string of words for the Black Widow to utter.

"Oh, it was great! Me and Hope have to do a project together that might take a while, and math is still kinda hard and confusing, but Damian helped me with the math homework and we finished the English homework that's due in three days, so that's good. Uuuh... Lemme think... I've realized I can run pretty fast and for a while, so good stamina."

Natasha smiled. She'd never lived through such trivial things as projects or having fun in school. It had been learn or die, for the most part. Erase any emotion and any connection and any loyalty to anybody but them. It still made Natasha feel echoing and hollow when she thought about those halls, about her bed, about the room she shared with the other girls. That's why she couldn't have steel frames on her beds, and when Clint had gotten one and she'd told him to get rid of it with a haunted look, he had.

Clint cared so much about her, and despite all her training, all that he had fought to undo all these years, she cared for him too. It was a bone deep feeling that no other could compete with. She looked over at Emma secretly, enjoying the happy smile and her happy tone and anything that signaled that she was happy.

She did that. Natasha had brought something else than grief to this world, and damn if she wasn't going to be as proud of it as she could.

They arrived at the Avengers Tower, and Emma was quickly swept away into the crowd of people Natasha had started calling something other than 'team'.

Tony was sitting in between Steve's knees on the floor of the living room, getting a back rub that seemed to be the best thing in the world at the moment. Thor was gently cradling Peter as he dozed in the giant's arms, and Darcy and Jane were nowhere to be found. Neither was Bucky, surprisingly. Bruce sat in the love seat, reading a book and drinking tea. 

Emma slid down next to Thor and Peter, and Natasha heard Clint sneaking up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and put his head on her shoulder, kissed her neck lovingly.

"How'd the pick up go?"

Natasha turned her head and gave him a warm kiss that made her insides flutter in a way that she used to hate. Clint's fingers stroked over her hip, over her shirt, and she needed him so much closer than this right now.

"It went good. She had a lot of fun apparently. She and Damian sparred. His older brother Jason seems like kind of a threat."

"To you or Emma?" Clint asked and his hands tightened around her waist momentarily.

"Neither. I meant that he seems to be a bit of a loose cannon." He nodded against her shoulder.

"Right. And Damian?"

"Emma can beat him any time." Clint grinned.

"Attagirl..."

Natasha glanced at the clock. It was getting late.

"Em? It's bedtime," she said. Emma whined.

"Come on, just a little bit later!" she begged.

"You have school tomorrow," Clint said and let go of Natasha. "Up you go."

"Why don't you have to go to bed?"

"We're going to bed too," Natasha said, giving Clint a look that meant 'I'm going to ravage you in multiple ways as soon as we're alone' and he swallowed thickly.

"Yeah. Nat will meet us upstairs. Come on, sweetie."

Emma grumbled but said goodnight to the others and was guided away by Clint to the elevators. Natasha hung her jacket off and decided to sit down and hold Peter a little.

She may have loved the fact that Emma wasn't a baby, and didn't really like babies... But there was something about them still, that made her feel like she'd been a little robbed. Robbed of the opportunity. Even if she'd had the chance of having kids, she probably wouldn't have really wanted one. But still. Natasha wanted the opportunity. She wanted the choice.

Whilst Natasha mulled over things long ago buried, Clint and Emma got off on their floor. The lights were out for some reason, and Clint immediately grew weary.

He grabbed Emma's shoulder and held her back.

"It's just the dark," Emma scoffed. "Jarvis, lights please."

The livingroom and kitchen area was lit up, and there was someone standing with their back turned to them.

Clint reacted immediately, slamming into them in a way that made his body protest, but this person was in his _home_ , where his _kid lived_. You don't just walk into the Avengers quarters unpunished.

The person in question grunted but rolled them over and got a few blows to the stomach before Clint saw a flashing of teeth he recognized way too vividly. He was off the person as quick as he'd been on him, and backed up, getting back to standing in front of Emma. The man got to his knees, and Clint felt a dam break inside of him, like it always did with _him_ here.

Emma peeked around Clint when he pulled his gun out and directed it at the intruder. Her eyes went wide.

"Barney! How the fuck did you get in?" Clint snapped.

"Charlie!" Emma exclaimed and slapped a hand to her mouth. Barney's eyes widened almost comically.

" _That's_ Charlie?!" Clint shouted, and Emma suddenly looked so very scared of him, that he had to take a breath. "No, I-I'm sorry Em, it's just-"

"Emma?" Barneys voice was rough with pain, and Emma kind of wanted to take Clints gun from him and empty a barrel in his brain, but at the same time, she wanted to hug him so tightly he broke a rib.

"What the actual fuck," Clint mumbled as Emma fell to her knees in front of Barney, taking his face in her hands.

"Charlie. Charles. Dear god. You look like shit," she mumbled, and he snorted.

"Still got that tongue of your's, eh? Good," he muttered. And now Emma was burying her face in Barney's chest, and Clint wanted to beat Barney's brains out, but he couldn't. Because Emma would no doubt protect him.

"Shut up," she said into his shirt, and his arms wrapped around her small figure. "You're a dick."

"Mhm."

"And you need to go to hell."

"Uh-huh."

"And you have some serious attitude problems that needs to be dealt with."

"Aaaaand?"

"And I fucking hate you," she mumbled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"That's what I was waiting for," he said as they sat there and hugged.

"Charles Bernard Barton. Fucking _'Charlie'_ ," Clint suddenly hissed, shaking his head, and Barney looked up from Emma's fiery hair, smiling.

"Ah. Clint-boy. How I've missed you too."

"You fucking _dick_ , your last name is Barton?" Emma snapped, punching his arm. He actually winced.

"I don't associate myself with that name, same as you don't associate yourself to yours," Barney said back, and Clint was about to faint from a mix of emotions he couldn't even fucking name. Where the fuck was Natasha? What the fuck was going on? Was he fucking dreaming? He better be fucking dreaming right now.

"Jarvis, stand down!" Emma suddenly said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Or not," Clint offered, and the turrets in the ceiling stayed trained on the older Barton.

"Hey! It's your brother!" Emma said, scowling as she turned to look at him. Clint shrugged.

"He's an intruder, Em. Come on, move away," he nearly begged, glanced up at the turrets in the ceiling. Thank fucking Stark for those. Suddenly, Emma crossed her arms, and planted her butt right in front of Barney so that she could stare at Clint.

"No."

"No?"

" _No_." Clint growled.

"Emma..." he said, warning her, but she stayed put. He decided on another card than her common sense. His arms relaxed.

"Go to your room." Emma gave him a wide-eyed glare.

"You can't tell me to just go to my room!"

"I can, I just did. Wait till Nat comes up, oh boooy, will she like finding you like this?" Clint said, putting his hands on his hips. Emma growled and stood up, pointing at him.

"If you kill him, I will _never_ forgive you."

"Room. Now." Emma gave up an exasperated noise, but stomped off to her room, almost slamming her door, until an idea sparked her to turn around and cross her arms.

"I'm in my room," she said proudly at Clint's annoyed look.

"Geeze, fucking wonder why Stark likes you so much," Clint said, yet again pointing his gun at his brother. Barney was watching with fascination the argument that had commenced.

"You... Does Emma live with you?" Barney asked slowly. Clint actually smiled at that.

"Yeah. She's mine and Nat's kid," he said. Barney looked even more confused.

"You know, she acts like you did. All 'I'm kickass' and 'you can't get me'. Good kid. Now that you mention it, with that short hair, she looks a lot like that spider girlfriend of yours. By the way, who would have thought? You and the Black Widow, shacking up? Nice."

"You don't get to talk about her," Clint said, his voice chilly. "Are you here to kill me?"

"Me? No. And you know I never wanted to kill you. My employers wanted you dead, and your employers wanted me dead."

"So threatening to strangle me with my own bow string, that was 'work talk'?" Clint asked angrily. "Saying you would gut me with my bow and string up the contents?" Barney shrugged.

"Yeah." Clint had slapped him hard before he could stop himself, reeling in his anger again, huffing. Barney's hand came up to his cheek for a second, but he didn't say anything.

"What are you doing here, Barney?" Clint asked, his voice low and angry. Emma was leaning out of her room, her concerned eyes locked on her father and her once best friend.

"I came to ask for a small favor, meeting Emma was just a bonus," he smiled, and Clint's eyes narrowed.

"You never ask me for favors."

"Yeah, well, this is a kind of important one."

"What?" Clint snapped. The elevatorbell dinged, but Clint didn't look up, because he knew who it was.

"What the-" Natasha breathed, before she had a gun trained on Barney, who was still sitting on the floor. He could always rely on Natasha.

"No, don't kill him!" Emma exclaimed, and Natasha's look snapped behind her.

"This is darling 'Charlie'," Clint informed her, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Natasha's eyes widened, and she let out a string of russian profanity that could make even Tony blush.

"Well. That does make sense. Fighting style is the same as yours and your brothers, circus," she muttered. "Should we call Shield?"

"No, please!" Emma exclaimed from her room. Natasha scowled.

"Emma...."

"He's my friend! He protected me!"

"He also left you," Natasha said, calm, without letting her eyes off the older Barton. "He protected Clint too. That doesn't make the fact that he broke into the Avengers tower any less potent."

"He... He had a reason to leave me!" Emma said, biting back a tear.

"If he really cared about you, he wouldn't have left," Clint growled. "Did we leave you when we found out?" Emma didn't say anything.

"In my defense, I-" was just as far as the older Barton got before Natasha struck his temple with her fist and knocked him the fuck out.

"Jarvis, do we have any holding cells available?" Natasha asked the ceiling. Seeing as the threat was neutralized by some good ol' one-on-one with Natasha, the ceiling turrets retracted.

"The Hulk's restraining cage is, miss. Will that do?" Jarvis asked.

"Yeah, sure. Alert the other Avengers and tell them to get downstairs. It's kind of an emergency," she said and pulled Barney up by his collar, already dragging him to the elevator.

\---


	49. Interrogations And Punishments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup guys!  
> I'm so glad to have you guys as my readers. You're all so nice and lovely and help me with stuff? Jesus christ, you lovely things. Can't believe you've stuck with me this far.  
> Here's another chapter for you guys!  
> Enjoy! <3

 

"You're shitting me," Tony said as the elevator doors opened. " _That's_ your brother?"

"Yeah," Clint grit out. Barney was getting up, rubbing his temple where Natasha's fist had connected. He groaned quietly.

"And he's also Charlie," Natasha said as she leaned on the rails where Emma was sitting, staring at the older Barton with mixed feelings.

"So that's why Emma fights like you, it's not because she's biologically yours, it's because you and your brother were taught how to fight by the same man, and she was taught by your brother!" Steve understood, looking a little debauched as he and Tony stopped by the others, his usually perfect hair tousled and cheeks and neck flushed a little red. Bruce was nervous in that room, but he remained calm as he stood next to Emma, looking concerned. Clint snarled.

"Yes," he muttered. Barney raised an eyebrow from his cage.

"You fought her? Lucky you got out alive, she blows shit up when she gets freaked," he said, looking over at Emma. 

"Hey," Natasha snapped. 

"Nah, it's okay," Emma said, waving dismissively at Barney. "He got freaked. We all do."

"I wasn't the one getting freaked, I was worried that I wasn't going to live much longer with you around!" Barney said back. Emma laughed.

"I recall you saying something like 'I can't fucking stay here, with these fucking trailers exploding and animals and shit' with a wild look. I think that classifies as getting freaked," Emma pointed out. Barney leaned on the cage.

"You know, if you wouldn't have blown _my_ trailer up, then we would probably still be together." Emma swallowed.

"Yeah, well, this is my family now. I've got a cousin-slash-little brother, a mom, a dad, and uncles and my new best best friend has a metal arm. A very very cool metal arm. My other best friends are totally awesome too, and I'm in the education system. Not the criminal one," she said. Natasha smiled inwardly. Emma was part of the Avengers family, and she knew it. Barney squinted at her.

"Cool metal arm? The Winter Soldier? I thought he was still on ice."

"Nah. At least he doesn't flee the country when I blow shit up."

"I did not-"

"Shut up," Clint snapped, his fists clenching. Barney held his hands up in the air.

"Just saying, she's lying."

"You're the fucking liar!" Emma exclaimed.

"Barney, you're fighting a twelve year old. You are a grown man. Stop," Clint said and rubbed his temples.

"I'm thirteen!"

"Is anything else than family bickering going to happen here? Because I was interrupted in exploring Americas greatest creation, and I want to get back to doing so," Tony said, and Steve blushed a crimson red.

"Tony," he chastised lightly.

"He got onto our floor without breaking a window," Clint said. Tony's facial expression immediately changed, and he frowned.

"Jarvis?" he said.

"It seems someone has tampered with my security devices," Jarvis supplied. Tony looked about ready to murder Barney, who just smiled innocently.

"Alright, how about I cut you guys a deal? My favor for the way I got in," he said. Clint slammed his open palms against the glass.

"What do you want from me?!" he shouted through the glass, and Barney just shrugged.

"A favor."

"What. Favor."

"Well... It's on more of a personal note than a team note," he remarked, giving Clint's teammates a glance.

"I don't fucking care. Tell me what you want." Barney sighed, let his head drop back.

"I need the key." Clint blinked, let out something that sounded similar to a laugh, but a lot more disbelieving and distrusting. The sound grated on Natasha's ears.

"Are you kidding me? I'm not giving you the key. The only reason I have it is so that you don't."

"What key?" Tony asked curiously.

"Nothing," Clint snapped.

"Clint," Natasha said, and he took a deep, calming breath.

"The key to our moms vault in Iowa," Barney said, and Clint made a hushing noise at him.

"Barney!"

"What? Like it's such a big fucking secret."

"It is!"

"Oh. Whoopsies."

Clint began muttering Russian curses, and probably some curses from other languages too, since Emma didn't recognize it all.

"Why do you need it?" he asked, his voice angry and low and hurt.

"I have _major_ money problem right now, and unless I rob, like, nineteen banks, I can't get the money. I got into it with the sleazy loan sharks. The ones we were warned to stay away from?"

" _Really_? I know this is pot calling kettle black, but are you  _fucking_ kidding me? You've physically forced me away from those creeps!" Barney did an unconcerned shrug, that Emma saw the nervous twitch behind.

"Done is done. I need the money, hence I need the key!" 

"What, you're broke as hell, so you're going to defile the one thing we've still got left?!"

"Would you rather have a dead brother than an unlocked safe?"

"Yes!" Barney didn't seem convinced. "Why don't you just give yourself up to Shield? They'll keep you nice and safe in prison. Where criminals like you belong."

"Hey, we do the same fucking job, except I do it without being a lap dog to Fury and Shield!"

"I'm saving the world, we aren't shit-squat alike anymore. I turned my life around!"

"And you left me the fuck behind!" Barney exclaimed, matching his brothers angry frown with his own.

"Barton, give him the key, I need to know how he got the fuck in," Tony snapped, impatient.

This seemed to be going absolutely nowhere, except that Clint and his brother would wake up with hoarse voices and probably a few bruises.

Emma hopped off the ledge where she'd been seated next to Natasha, and placed her palm on the glass. Weaknesses against them. That's what Natasha always said.

"I go to school now," she said, and Charlies gaze dropped to her. Clint stared at her too, as if he suddenly remembered that she was in the room.

"Yeah?" Charlie said, his voice softer now, quieter. Emma nodded with a smile, and his hands slid off the glass separating him and his brother.

"Yeah. I met this really nice girl named Hope. Funny name, huh? Remember that little kid named Faith that kept pulling my hair when I sat in front of her?" Charlie chuckled.

"That little squirming bastard should have kept her eyes on her lunchbox," he cackled, shaking his head with a happy sigh. "You've gone clean. Just like Clint did." Emma shrugged.

"I slugged a kid in school a few weeks back. He was being a prick," she said. Charlie, no, Barney laughed.

"You always had a bite to you, didn't ya?" he said, shaking his head at her.

"The way you got in, was it through the vents?" Barney raised his eyebrows in a "pfft please, you think I'm gonna tell?" gesture. "Well, you have some dust still left on your knees, suggesting you crawled. Dust means that you used a vent me and Clint never use, and the only one that I can think of is the one in the back alley. We use everything else, including the one to the roof, and to the lower floors. We like to crawl around." Tony was already searching the databases, looking up where security suddenly had stopped working or just disappeared.

Barney shook his head slowly.

"They should never have put you in school."

"Sherlock, my dearest Charlie. Not school. It's one of the greatest tv shows ever created." She patted the glass fondly, and Tony was muttering to himself as he walked over to another panel, began pulling numbers up.

"Whiskey," Clint said, shaking his head silently.

"What?" Barney said, a dark eyebrow raised.

"It was whiskey in the box. A bottle of dad's best. The one he told everyone was stolen and got repayment for," Clint explained, his chest hollow. "Not worth squat." 

Barney stared at his brother, and then he slammed his fist onto the glass with a hiss.

"Fuck!"

\---

Soon enough, everyone went back upstairs, to go to sleep. Clint lay awake next to Natasha, who noticed the archers tense manner.

"Clint..." she said softly, and kissed the hand that was loosely intertwined with hers.

"He's here. I can't sleep when he's here," Clint replied, and Natasha nodded.

"I know. Just... Try. For me. Please?" He sighed, and ran his free hand through his hair.

"God, I just... I thought I'd never see him again after last time. He'd beaten me to a pulp, and he wasn't far off himself, and then he just... He stopped. And left me on the ground like a little kid again."

"Did he hurt you when you were children?" Natasha asked, an edge to her tone.

"Only when I pointed out how much he looked like dad. More often than not, he protected me." She nodded quietly.

"Please try to sleep. You know I can't sleep if you don't."

"I'll be quiet," he promised and kissed the top of her head, still not closing his eyes.

"Good."

As soon as Emma stopped hearing the muffled sounds of her guardians, she tip-toed away from their door, and over to the elevator.

"Hulk's holding cell, please," she whispered. Jarvis didn't reply, but the elevator started descending, and Emma's hand clasped around the little necklace around her neck.

The doors slid open, and she stepped out carefully into the almost fully dark room. Barney was leaning against the glass of the cage, with his eyes open. He was sleeping, and Emma stepped up to the huge glass cylinder.

"Barney," she whispered. He didn't move. "Barney!" He closed his eyes and opened them again quickly, squinting at her through the dark.

"Emma?" he grumbled, and she swallowed hard.

"Jay, lights?" The room was lit up, and she was clutching the necklace desperately as she stared Charlie down. _Barney_ , she scolded herself. He gave her a weak smile, and she sat down in front of the glass, put her palm on it.

Barney mimicked her movements and rested his hand right above hers on the thick glass.

"You mad at me?" he asked after a long silence.

"No," Emma replied quietly. "I wasn't mad at you."

"What were you then?"

"Hurt. I was really really hurt. Because you said 'to infinity' and then you left."

"You should have known better than to trust me."

"I was small. I didn't know shit about trust and the horror of man yet," she snapped at him. "I thought forever _meant_ forever."

"It never does," Barney answered, and his navy blue eyes locked on the necklace around her neck. He nodded towards it. "You kept it."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Because I'm sentimental. And I missed you telling me about the swallows." He sighed and ran a hand through his copparish hair.

"Yeah. I missed you too Em." She bit her lip and decided on something that was going to hurt like hell.

"Get up," she ordered, and stood up, walked over to the control panel.

"What? Why?" Barney asked suspiciously, but quickly stood up.

"I'm getting you out," she decided. "Jarvis, which button do I press to open the door?"

"The red one, but I do not advise-"

"Really? Tony is such an internal supervillain. Thank you Jay," she said and pushed the button. "If you tattle on me to Tony, do it in fifteen minutes, starting... Now!"

She grabbed Barney's hand and pulled him towards the elevator, making Jarvis bring them to ground floor.

"Go, go," she said as she opened the front doors quickly. Barney quickly placed a kiss on her forehead, and gave her a warm hug. Emma dwelled in the scent of him for a few seconds, before he was off, running into the night. He'd have to get his money somewhere else.

\---

"You what?!" Clint exclaimed, and it looked like he was going to explode any second. Emma shrugged.

"I let him out."

"Did it ever cross your mind that he's dangerous, and a murderer?!" Clint exclaimed.

"Aren't we all?"

Clint rubbed his palms over his eyes, most possibly trying to stave off a headache. He did _not_ like losing a very important argument right now, in the middle of the night, with Emma staring at him like he's a bomb ready to explode. Which, to her credit, he kinda is.

"You let out a criminal. I think that calls for a punishment, doesn't it, Nat?" he said, trying to keep his voice level. Natasha nodded.

"Yeah. Give me your phone," Natasha said, holding her hand out.

"Why my phone?" Emma asked, eyes big.

"Because you let a murderous criminal out of the goddamned building, we should pull you out of school for this!" Clint exclaimed, and Emma's bottom lip was trembling as she handed her phone over to Natasha. "Good." Clint's clipped tone made her close her eyes, and she could hear him muttering curses as he stomped off to his bedroom, closing the door with a click.

Natasha sighed, and saw Emma fighting back tears.

"He just can't function when his brother is around," she murmured as she sat down next to Emma, pulling her into a one-armed hug. She wasn't heartless, she wasn't going to leave Emma crying after an argument with one of the people most important to her. "And I know he used to be your best friend, but don't ever do that again. Understood?" Natasha gave her a stern glare, and Emma nodded silently as Natasha hugged her closer again. "Good."

"...I owe him everything," Emma nearly whispered.

"Barney?" Natasha asked softly. The little girl nodded against her chest.

"He kept me safe."

Great. Now Natasha both wanted to hug and kill the man. Next time he came around, he was going to have both her thanks and her hands wrapped around his neck.

\---

When Clint finally fell asleep, it was turning bright outside, and Natasha wasn't sleeping by his side. He had twisted and turned until he eventually just pulled her pillow over to his side of the bed, breathing in the lingering scent of Natasha on his sheets. 

Yeah, he felt a little needy doing it, but literally no one was there to judge, except for Jarvis, and he didn't judge out loud.

When he woke up, there was a purple post it on his nightstand. 

_Sorry not sorry_

He groaned out loud when he heard his phone ring. He groaned once more, louder for good measure, and grabbed the phone.

"What the fuck, who the fuck, and why the fuck?" Clint asked and yawned.

"Uhm. Hi," came Bucky's voice from the other side, gravelly and a little unsure.

"Sup', dude. When did you guys get home?"

"We didn't." Clint blinked.

"How _scandalous_. Pray do tell." Bucky huffed.

"We're in police custody. I beat a guy up, Darcy kinda... Joined in? I guess? She tazed a few guys coming at me, I picked a fight with a gang, and Jane was just smart enough to not get caught. You have to come get me out. I've promised your kid to be good, and Darcy not to break out, so you have to come get me."

Clint sighed.

"Sure. Why not. Let's go rescue the Winter Soldier from prison. Not like this day could get any weirder. Hey, you know Charlie?" he said with an unusual sneer. Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah?"

"He's my brother. Barney. He dropped by last night. Emma let him out and is banned from her phone for a while. Can't imagine how she'll be feeling." Bucky stayed silent, and Clint ran a hand through his hair. "Give me ten, I'll be there."

"Give you ten what?"

"Minutes. Ten minutes." Clint stared blankly at the wall as Bucky kept his mouth shut, probably doing the same. "Alright, whatever. I'll bust you out, hang in there."

He dressed and hauled his ass down to one of Tony's cars.

"Will Tony kill me if I take the Lambourgini?" he asked Jarvis.

"Most likely, Agent Barton. And since you are bringing home two people, I would suggest the Audi, being the more comfortable choice." Clint grumbled but agreed and made his way down to the police station. He decided he'd stop for coffee and donuts after he'd bailed the lovebirds out of jail.

Clint had been inside many a police station. _Many_. Shield had obviously overlooked that when they let him join, thanks to Phil, really. God bless the man. One time Natasha had joked that he'd been forced to stay overnight in a police station in all of the states. He'd counted. Only had Washington, Texas, and Kansas to go.

He came in with a smile, talked to the receptionist behind the counter for a while, all regular chit chat and signing forms and stuff.

When he first caught sight of Darcy, she was positively _glowing_. She was in cuffs, so was Bucky, even though Clint had little to no doubt the man could turn them into metal confetti if he wanted too. Each as different as snowflakes too, if he used his metal arm.

They still both looked as giddy and happy as if they'd just found the last box of poptarts untouched by Thor.

Well, Darcy looked giddy, and Bucky had that slight smirk that made him look a little less like he was going to kill you, which was basically his version of giddy. Two toddlers with their hands in the cookie jar.

"You hormone addled adolescents!" Clint said as he noticed a hickey on Bucky's neck. "Making out? In _jail_?"

"Technically, we weren't making out," he supplied. Darcy slapped his real arm, and gave him a devilish smile. "Just the occasional kiss."

"To the neck. And the collarbone. And I'm guessing he's got hickeys on his chest," Clint said. Darcy bit her lip and Clint made a grossed out noise.

"You sound like a toddler with the cooties," she said with a laugh.

"Gross, cooties," Clint mock-grimaced and did a subtle snap of his head to get them out of here. They loaded into the Audi and Clint stopped by Dunkin Donuts on the way home, getting himself a mint mocha frappuchino (as 'twas the season) and Darcy a caramel one. Bucky got strong, black coffee that he downed without doubt, and probably burned his tongue whilst doing it.

"So, your brother?" Darcy said in the elevator, already picking dry lenses out of her eyes. Clint looked away.

"Yup."

"What happened?"

"He got in. I nearly shot him. Natasha knocked him out. Emma fought with him. Hugged him. It was really weird and horrible and I'd like to forget about it, asap."

"Right. Got it," she said as she managed to poke her contact out, blinking wildly. "On second thought, that wasn't very smart of me. I'm now half blind. Clint, you have to lead me."

"Get your hickeyed up boyfriend to do it."

"He needs to pee," Bucky supplied.

"You can hold it in."

"Have been doing just that since last night."

"Ugh, fine," Clint grumbled as the doors slid open. He guided Darcy to the kitchen sink and gave Natasha's upper arm a gentle squeeze when he passed her. She looked up and gave him a small smile. _We're good_.

God, he loved Natasha.

The thought made him freeze up. Of course he loved Natasha. She was his best friend, and one of the people that made his life worth living, and of course he loved her as his best friend, and had, since they'd officially became a "thing", loved her more fiercely than he knew he could. He just loved her really much. It kinda hurt his chest just thinking about it, like he wasn't holding her arm still and like she was so much further away than she really was.

"Clint?" she inquired softly, her green eyes peering up at him with a hint of worry. He realized he'd spaced out, and instead of replying, he took a gentle hold of her chin, and guided her lips to his. 

They kissed gently, softly, and Clint would love to just go back to bed and catch up on his well deserved sleep with Natasha curled around him, when the alarm went off. 

Both pulled away and sighed.

"Duty calls. Three minutes to dress!" he said and slid out of her grasp. "Race you to the unifooo-" Clint looked around. Natasha was gone. "Fuck, I was kidding, Nat!" 

"You're only saying that because you're losing!" came Natasha's sing-songy voice from the stairs, and he laughed as he went off after her.

Soon Darcy was in the kitchen with Peter in her lap, watching the Avengers in action.

\---  
  



	50. Gala Talk And Tazer Sticks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> I just wanna tell you that this chapter is like 80% battlescenes, and I'm not very good at writing those. Just a heads up.  
> Thank you for all your sweet comments and constant support!  
> Enjoy the thing <3

 

So what if Emma had let Charlie out? It wasn't that big of a deal! What were they gonna do, keep him in there forever?! She hunched further down in her seat and huffed loudly.

"What's the matter with you?" Layla asked and turned around in her desk, propping her elbows up on Emma's desk. "You're really grumpy today. And you didn't answer my text this morning. What's that all about?"

"My parents confiscated my phone," she said with a sigh. Layla's eyes grew wide with horror.

"You poor, poor, sad little doe!" she exclaimed and cradled Emma's face in her hands. "Okay, I get why you're grumpy. Totally understandable. Why'd they take it?"

"I did something they thought was stupid," Emma said, recalling Clint's earlier yelling. Her mood soured impossibly more.

"Ugh. Gotta hate parents." A twinge of something hurt Emma's heart.

"I don't hate them," she said softly. "I just wish they understood why I did what I did."

"So, are you grounded or..." Layla inquired.

"Nope. Just took my phone away. They're pretty non-strict parents really."

"Ugh, I wish my parents weren't strict. No more 'get your grades up Layla' or 'you should start working for college money Layla', or, my personal favorite, 'no dating until you're at least 18'."

Emma laughed, but quieted down when she saw her teacher, Mr. Fitz, give her a look across the room. She smiled apologetically and leaned further into Layla's space.

"Well, I've never dated anyone before. I wouldn't know if I'd wanna." Layla's eyes lit up.

"Oh really?" she said innocently, but it had a very Pepper-like perk of interest to it.

"I used to, uh, move around a lot. Didn't have many friends, least of all boyfriends."

"Huh," Layla said, nodding as she pulled her phone out. She frowned at a notification. "Oh wow..." she murmured and turned back forward.

Damian leaned over from her left, and Hope from her right, and she smiled at them both.

"So, any new galas to visit, Dami?" Hope asked with a flutter of her eyelashes, and Damian's eyes narrowed like they did when he felt like he was about to be set up.

"Yes, I suppose father is dragging me to a dreadful gala soon. Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, no reason. Just thought, you really hate those galas, don't you?"

"Very much so," he replied.

"Really?" Emma said with surprise. "Why? It feels like you'd be like a fish in water at a gala." He scoffed.

"Who said I wasn't? I just don't generally enjoy being belittled by old people and young money," he said flippantly. Emma snorted.

"That makes two of us. Can't you just hide in a nook or cranny or whatever? Seems like something you would do."

"Father prefers to keep me where he can see me. Kidnapping risk."

"Well, you'd put up one hell of a fight," she said with a pointed tap to her arm, where a bruise had formed since their little sparring match. He gave her a tiny smile.

"Do you enjoy galas then?" he asked. She frowned.

"I've never been to one."

"What? But your unc-" he cut himself off mid-word. Damian seemed to be considering his way out of this when Hope looked confused.

"Why haven't you been to a gala? Isn't, you know, your family famous?" she whispered to her friend. Emma grinned at her lovely friends' sense of loyalty towards her secrets, and shrugged.

"It's not like Uncle Tony is super duper inclined to drag me along to the galas," she said casually, and Hope and Damian gave each other a look, blinking owlishly at each other.

"Oh. No need for the cat around hot porridge act then," Damian muttered, and Hope rolled her eyes.

"Why wouldn't they bring you?" Hope asked.

"Uuuuh... The press thinks I'm blonde and a few inches taller?" she suggested.

"They don't want to tell the world about you, then," he said.

"Oh, they have. Well, they've said my name and told the world they adopted me, but not exactly who I am," Emma said with a shrug, curling into Damian's (her) hoodie. It was just a stupid hoodie, and she had many others just like it, but she liked this one the best. "I like dressing up all pretty though. I'd probably like it at a gala."

Damian hummed.

"Galas are a nuisance."

"But the dresses are nice! And talking all fancy and the bling."

"They are horrible. I'll bring you sometime, and you will despise them as much as I do."

"Oh will I?"

" _Yes_."

Hope smothered an eyeroll. That's how you got these two to decide on dates, you made them challenge each other. It was probably dangerous, but if the challenge involved a gala, hopefully nobody would be hurt.

"Holy crap, look at this!" Layla said and turned back around in her seat, her eyes wide. She shoved a phone underneath Emma's nose, and her breath caught. She heard the reporter distantly as she watched with horror the scene unraveling before her.

"- _seem to be attacking the outskirts of New York. The Avengers have gathered on scene, but seem to be in over their head_ -" the reporter said, and Emma grabbed the phone out of Layla's hands. Shit!

"Is this happening right now?" she demanded to know, and Layla blinked.

"Yeah," she said. A helicopter was following, live footage following a narrow road where a herd of what looked like fucking _zombies_ walked, and her parents and uncles running through the masses, blasting, shooting, throwing, punching, slicing, anything to rid the world of their existence. Emma watched with a feeling of dread, and Damian craned his neck to look at the object in her hands.

"Barton? You look pale," he said, and pried the phone out of her hands.

"They're heading for the school," Emma said out loud, giving Damian a look that would have made him drop to his knees had it not been for her hand suddenly gripping his upper arm. "That's the road from your place to the school. _They're heading for the damn school_."

His eyes fell on the phone, his eyebrows furrowed. He saw the teacher's coffee mug rattle out of the corner of his eye, and studied the road the Avengers were currently following. It was.

Damian muttered some well-chosen words in Arabic, and Emma yanked the phone from his hands again, quickly getting up to the teacher's desk.

"Hi, yeah, you might wanna put the school into lock-down mode," she suggested as she shoved the phone underneath Mr. Fitz nose. He was a large man, buff and bald, but the kindest teacher she'd ever met, only using his booming voice to scare the shit out of the kids talking during his teaching time. He stared at the footage for a second, and she could see the gears turning in his head.

"They're coming for the school, aren't they? I knew I should've left New York when I was younger," he sighed and got up, reaching towards his desk phone. "Alright kids! We're in lock down mode until I say differently! Get on the floor! Everybody on the floor right now!"

He didn't notice Emma sneaking out of the room before he closed the door and locked. Damian did, and he was off after her.

\---

"Darcy, how's Peter?" Tony asked as he blasted one of the _things_ going after his husband-to-be.

"He's fine. Keep fighting. How's Bucky?"

"Fine," came Bucky's grunt on the comm.

"I can totally get what you see in him," said Clint sarcastically, and Darcy scoffed.

"As if you haven't got a Russian ex-assassin as your partner," she snappily retorted. Clint pulled an explosive arrow and shot it at a cluster of the weird meat things. They were basically threads of muscle, uneasily strong and creepily agile.

"Touché."

Nobody knew what was driving the gross things into action, Tony hadn't picked up any tech inside them, and so they were left to think it was magic. Clint hated magic. So much. Loki had made sure of that when he took his leave and left Clint's mind in shambles.

"Uh, guys?" Bucky suddenly said in the comms. "Aren't we heading straight for Emma's school?" 

The Avengers peered ahead, and Hulk roared as he threw two of them forward.

"Hulk, no!" came Clint's shout, a moment too late. Over the next hill, lay Emma's school, and he'd just effectively launched two muscle-heaps in that exact direction. "Shit!"

"It's okay, Brucie bear, I'll fly ahead and find 'em," Tony said dismissively at the Hulk's confused face.

"Iron Man," came Natasha's sharp voice over the comm.

"And apparently I'm bringing Widow," he said as he swooped down, grabbing Natasha's hand as she swung herself up on his back. 

They blasted off towards the school, but couldn't seem to find the two lost fleshlings. They circled around the school, but still couldn't seem to find them, and so they returned to the others. They didn't have to fly far, the army of fleshy things was hard to stop, really hard, and it had crawled it's way over the hill.

"Did you get them?" Steve asked as they joined the others, trying to stop them from moving forward and closing in.

"I think darling Hulk threw them so hard they just turned into piles of goo," Tony declared. Hulk roared victoriously, and smashed two of them together. Natasha had a nagging feeling that wasn't the case.

 

Inside the school, Emma was running through the corridors, mentally checking off all the weak spots, when she heard something shatter the white painted stone the school was built with. She peeked around a corner and her eyes widened when she saw two of the things from the news crawling through crumbled brick. 

"Sh-" was all that she got out before a hand closed over her mouth and pulled her head back around the corner. Damian's hand. He stared at her with an intense glare that made her think twice about slapping his hand away. _Quiet_ , his look conveyed.

They heard shuffling and a gross squelching of meat on marble, and when the noises grew quieter, she slapped his hand away.

"What are you doing out here?" Emma hiss-whispered. Damian looked like he was about to start yelling at her, but he clenched his jaw, held it back.

"What are _you_ doing out here?"

"News flash: my family is dropping by, and I'm gonna greet them."

"That's ridiculously impulsive and stupid." Emma glared daggers at him, and he glared right back.

"You're fucking stupid! You snuck out after me! You should've stayed in the classroom like the others!" she hissed. _Oh boy_ , was she pissed now. She wasn't stupid, and Damian wasn't gonna fucking say that to her. She would take no shit.

"I'm not sorry for not wanting you to get yourself killed," Damian snapped back, his shoulders tensing with anger. She wanted to punch him. And kiss him.

No, no, Damian was an asshole. No kissing. Definitely not now.

"Well fuck off," Emma snarled and grabbed his phone from his pocket, dialing a number she knew by heart. He tried to grab for the phone, but she was already off toward where the fleshy guys had gone. 

"I'm coming with you," Damian announced as she pressed the phone to her ear. It took Jarvis three rings to pick up.

"The Avengers Tower, please state your name and the way you acquired this number," came his british voice, and Emma shoved Damian back, using some of her strength that wasn't supposed to be there. He looked startled for a second.

"Hi, Jarvis, it's Emma, I need you to connect me to the Avenger comms right now, it's an emergency," she said as she crept around a corner. Damian followed, surprisingly stealthily. "Back off, Dami."

"You have my phone," he replied easily. "And there's no way I'll get into a classroom now. Lockdown, remember?" Emma gritted her teeth as she suddenly heard Cap's voice, shouting orders in the phone.

"Steve?" she said. There was a silence and then the line exploded with noise. All the Avengers said her name in various degrees of shock and anger and confusion and volume.

"How the hell are you connected to the comms? We took your phone!" came Clint's voice.

"She asked for access to the comms for an emergency," Tony supplied.

"Yeah, because there's weird, fleshy things, that you guys are supposed to be fighting by the way, in the damn school!" Emma hissed as she and Damian crept further down the hallway, toward the cafeteria.

"Oh..." Tony sucked in a breath. "I guess they didn't get squashed then."

"How many?" Steve asked. 

"Two of them. I got the school to go into lockdown mode, but Damian is an asshole," Emma grit that out viciously, and Damian scowled from behind her, "and snuck out after me."

"Emma," Clint groaned. "Tell me that you're in a classroom with your peers and that you're safe and not at all roaming through the building." She blinked.

"Uuuuuh... I'm in a classroom with my peers and I'm safe and not at all roaming through the building?" she said innocently, and Damian scoffed. She punched his arm as they tip toed around the bend toward the cafeteria. The two fleshy things were there, and Emma pulled back sharply, effectively slamming into Damian and stopping him from falling by wringing her knee out just in time to catch him. 

Basically, she'd just dipped him whilst clutching his phone to her ear and not-quite-listening to Steve's rant about why she shouldn't have snuck out. Lovely. 

They stared at each other blankly for a few stunned seconds, until she helped him up and actually tuned into what Steve was saying.

"-keep them at bay, you two should find a safe place to stay inside the school until we get there."

"No closets! Absolutely no closets!" Clint said, his voice slightly panic-y.

"Chill, we're not gonna hide and make out in a closet," Emma scoffed. Damian sputtered next to her, and she slapped a hand to his mouth, carefully leaning out from the corner. The fleshy things were gone. "Uh-oh."

"Tony!" Steve yelled, and then the ground and the walls shook as Iron Man came bursting through the fragile looking windows in the cafeteria.

"Fuck, they're strong!" came the metallic voice from the armor and Tony's voice from Damian's phone.

"Tony, are you okay?" Steve asked worriedly, his voice all Steve Rogers and far from Captain America. Tony grunted as he got up, and Emma slid out from behind the wall, walking over to him quickly with Damian hot on her heels. She threw his phone behind her, and knew that he'd catch it. 

"Tony!" she called, and his entire upper body moved to look at her.

"Emma!" he exclaimed as his faceplate flipped open. "What the hell are you doing out here? Get into a damn classroom and get safe! Take Damian with you!"

"I can help!" she said, and Tony gave her a pained look. 

"Help? Honey, they just threw me through a wall of solid stone. These guys aren't really for you."

"We could help," Damian insisted, and Emma scoffed.

"No. You're not helping." He raised his eyebrows. 

"Yes. I am."

"Don't have time for this," Tony supplied and the faceplate flipped back down. "Get safe. And no closets." Emma rolled her eyes as he went back out of the opening. The cold was seeping in through the hole in the wall, and she curled tighter into the hoodie with a frown.

"Damian?" she said carefully.

"Yes?" he asked and joined her side, standing tall next to her.

"Where are the security cameras?" He gave her a considering glance.

"Three of them in here," Damian replied, his eyes seeking them out. "By the counter over there, the entrance, and the door to the bathrooms."

Emma focused her look on the one above the counter, and hoped and prayed that this would work.

"Don't freak out."

She clenched her hand viciously, and hoped her weird mystic powers would catch her drift. They did, and the camera exploded from the inside, pretty lamely, really. The glass cracked and a little smoke came from it, and Damian raised his eyebrows.

"I don't see a reason to freak out at all," he said. She gave him a push with her side, not hard or anything, just a friendly 'shut up' push, and definitely not to feel his arm muscles. Nope. Not at all.

Emma did it again. The next one cracked with more intensity as she felt excitement run through her. The third one split in two pieces, dangling from it's usual perch. Damian was staring at her now in silent shock.

"Maybe a small reason to freak out?" she inquired as she grabbed his hand and hauled him off toward where she assumed the flesh bits had run off to. Damian kept his mouth wisely shut and followed her quietly. 

They found them pretty soon, seeing as they were both colliding into a wall repeatedly. It seemed to be cracking under their weight and force. 

"We didn't think this through, did w- what the fuck?" Emma watched as Damian hauled what looked like two sticks from his socks, only metal and with what looked like tazer things on the ends. "Um."

"Don't freak out," he said, the little parrot, and launched himself into the task of stopping the creatures from breaking the wall. Never let it be said that Emma backed down from a challenge.

She hadn't realized how weird it felt to let all of her inhibitions on her strength go. 

Her fingers clenched around slippery tissue as she swung one of them into another wall, watching Damian's sticks move fluidly through the air, now crackling with electricity. The meat slab decided to get back up, even after her expert throwing, so she decided to try another tactic. She grabbed what looked like an arm and what looked like a head, and she pulled them apart with all her might. 

The noise of flesh ripping was gross. Really gross. But it seemed to work as she threw the arm-looking thing towards Damian, who didn't even seem to be thinking about it as he used the stick to slap it out of his way. He fried it experimentally, and Emma tore another limb from the creature, a leg this time. Blood wasn't pouring out on the floor like she'd expected it too. 

Instead, a thick liquid that was vaguely purple slowly poured out where the arm and the leg was missing.

"So gross!" Emma cried out as she grabbed the head and tore it from the body with a hefty tug. The creature slackened. "Alright, cool. Decapitation works."

The leg and arm that was left twitched, and she nearly jumped five feet high, the security cam by the toilets no one had noticed exploding violently from her shock.

Damian stabbed one of his tazer-sticks into its stomach, and the thing jerked violently for a few seconds, until it went completely limp. When Emma looked around, she noticed the other creep scattered over the floor, in six neat pieces, equally fried. 

They stood in silence, and he pulled back, standing next to her. Both of their breathing was ragged, and Emma felt jittery with adrenaline and her weird freaky powers being completely off the hook and unrestrained. 

She pointed to Damian's tazer-sticks.

"Are those yours?" she asked. He snorted.

"These are ridiculous. They are certainly not mine. I just can't bring my weapon of choice to school," he muttered.

"Weapon of choice," she repeated. Yup. He was such a fucking assassin. She really knew how to pick 'em. "Right. Obviously. Who would want tazer-sticks anyways?"

"Escrima."

"What?"

"Not 'tazer-sticks'. Escrima sticks."

"Right. Of course," she said and wiped some of the purple-syrup-blood off her hands on the wall. "We should find more monsters to fight."

Damian gave her an incredulous look.

"You just go looking for trouble, don't you?"

"Usually. Unless it finds me. Me and trouble are best pals, we've got a lot of history," she told him with a serious nod that made his lips quirk as he turned his head away.

"This area seems to be secure from the infiltration. Shall we?" Damian asked, and waved with an escrima stick down the hall. She grinned.

"We shall."

\---

Clint crashed through a wall and felt every bone in his upper body protest. His ribs ached and his eyes swam a little as he forced his body to cooperate, and sit up.

"Hawkeye?" came Steve's voice from his comm, and he shook his head a little, his eyesight focusing enough to recognized one of the creatures reaching for him. Instinctively, Clint grabbed an arrow and realized his bow wasn't on him.

Groaning, he shoved the trick arrow into the flesh of the creature, and scrambled over the rubble from the wall, rolling onto a cool tiled floor and in front of a pair of boots that looked somehow familiar.

"Need a hand?" came Bucky's drawl from above him, and Clint squinted up at him as the trick arrow went off, blowing that purple yucky stuff over the rocks.

"Nah, I'm good," Clint grit out as he struggled himself onto his elbows. It took him a few more seconds to get up, but when he did, he realized Bucky had been covering for him, keeping his handgun out and raised at the opening. 

Suddenly Clint heard a gleeful laugh and a chuckle, and turned around just in time to see Emma and Damian skidding around the corner.

"Hey!" he called, and they both froze on the spot, turning around viciously. Damian was hiding something behind his back, and Emma had her fists raised until she saw who they were.

"Dad!" she blurted out, and Clint couldn't help but feel that sting of pride when she said that. Hell yeah, he was her dad! "Uh... I can explain?"

"Get in a damn classroom!" Clint barked, and she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"But they're breaking walls! We've taken out eight of them!"

"Eight?" Bucky echoed, and fired a shot out the hole in the wall without looking up.

"Yeah!" Emma replied excitedly. "We can fight the Dead Space creatures together!"

"That sounds nice, but we need to get you to safety," Clint said, shaking his head at her.

"The kids can fight, let 'em fight," Bucky said, giving Clint a look that was unreadable.

"Are you fucking crazy? They're _kids_." Clint's look was anything but unreadable.

Bucky shrugged.

"They've gotten eight of those things without trouble."

"Yeah!" Emma and Damian nodded along.

"That doesn't mean they're going to get the next fifty! If adults can't take them on, why the hell would children be able to?!"

"Emma has superpowers and Damian has taken her down in more than one sparring match. If they've handled eight so far, I believe they can take out a few more."

"Yes! What he said!" Emma said, nodding.

"Team mid-battle meeting," Clint said angrily over the comm. "Bucky is saying that we should let Emma and Damian keep fighting the things. Could someone back me up on how fucking insane that is?"

The line was silent for a while.

"Well..." came Darcy's voice. "Telling kids they can't do something is basically dangling a slab of meat in front of a starved dog, which is totally animal abuse, by the way."

"Noted, but not very helpful," Clint replied.

"Emma has her healing factor that works overtime," Tony supplied.

"Are you seriously-"

"I think we should let them fight, if they can," Steve said, sounding tired.

"Is the world going crazy?! I swear to fucking God-"

"I would prefer it if Emma didn't go into full out battle with us, but it'll be hard to stop her now that she's been at it already," Natasha said.

"See, that's what I was thinking," Bucky said, waving towards the two kids standing and staring.

"Right! Obviously! We should just let Jessie and James here do whatever they want. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Yay! Thanks Clint!" Emma said, and grabbed Damian's arm, running off down the hall.

"That wasn't the final decision!" Clint called after her, exasperated. Bucky shrugged.

"There wasn't a way to get them to stop without anyone getting seriously injured anyways. Wanna go after 'em?" Bucky asked as three more of the monsters poured into the school. Clint grabbed one of his knives and sighed.

"Don't have time. We'll go after them after these three has gotten their ass handed to them."

\---


	51. Caught And Fallouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skidding in at the 23:58 mark!  
> Thank you for reading, and sorry its so much Damian and Emma in this chapter.  
> Enjoy!<3

 

So fighting Damian was great. Fun, even. But fighting _with_ Damian was ten times better.

It was a little fumbled, and Emma managed to accidentally punch Damian instead of the flesh thing once or twice, but they managed. They took out more of the fleshlings by ripping and frying them, and even though Damian ended up with a split lip and Emma was thrown into a wall like, three times, they ended up being totally okay. 

Until Natasha and Clint caught up to them. 

They were fighting fleshlings in the cafeteria, punches and limbs flying a little bit of everywhere, when they came crashing in. Emma threw another piece of flesh over towards Damian and yelled 'Left!', causing him to stab the air left of him, and effectively frying it. They'd gotten into the groove, and Emma felt powerful as hell, when she caught sight of one of the broken cameras. 

She'd broken every single one that came in their way, effectively cutting off any evidence of them fighting. She wasn't dumb. What Damian was doing was totally professional, and not something you pick up from rough-housing with your brothers, no matter how huge they are. No no, this was something else, and Emma was going to get to the bottom of it as soon as she didn't have gooey limbs trying to grab at her and throwing her into walls.

Blowing the cameras up from the inside hadn't been all that easy. Emma still needed mad concentration unless she wanted something else to pop. Making people's heads pop off, and making Tony's suit malfunction and fall apart, and making toasters, tv's, mugs, all of that, that was instinct. She felt scared, or cornered, and it happened. Forcing her powers out of the dark in which they resided, had made her feel a little nauseous. 

But one of the fleshsacks had gotten Damian's ankle and wasn't letting go, and suddenly nothing seemed very hard anymore. Emma jumped up on one of the cafeteria tables, and glared holes into the thing. Another wave of nausea hit her, but she still watched as one of the ungodly flesh monsters exploded in purple syrup and sinew and muscles. 

"Whoa," she mumbled as she stared at the mess she'd just made, her eyes huge. Emma could fucking do that?! She felt powerful when she did that. Scary, yeah, but powerful. Like nothing was in her way.

Clint came running down the hall where they'd come from originally, with Natasha after him. Damian shot her a thankful look and then aggressively slammed the two sticks into the fleshling's head.

"No crazy killer looks!" Clint shouted as he aimed for the fleshy spawn of the devil now coming at Natasha, and realized he was out of arrows. Natasha kicked it square in the face, with a knife now sticking out of her heel. Perks of having Stark around.

"Sorry!" Emma called back.

"Get your ass off the table right now!" Clint called as Natasha stabbed her Widow Bites into the fleshling, letting it sizzle for a good five seconds before pulling back and brushing her hair out of her face like she'd bent down and picked something up instead of having just casually thrown a huge fried piece of flesh over two times her size to the ground.

There was a lack of crackling and sizzling and grunts from Emma's side. She turned to see Damian fiddling with his sticks, looking at Clint and Natasha like they were about to slit his throat. Which, you know, was probably a valid concern after all.

Emma slid down from the table and motioned with her head for Damian to join her. Silently, the two of them came up to Clint and Natasha, both looking more than just mildly annoyed but less pissed than I'm-gonna-start-yelling-if-you-open-your-mouth mad.

"Any signs of movement?" came Steve's voice through the comms, and Clint scowled.

"Nothing here. We caught up to the little partners in crime," he replied with a hand to his ear. "They seemed to have cleaned house. How much damage?"

"Currently? A lot of purple goop that seems harmless," Tony replied. "All the classrooms are fine, and Cap spoke to some of the teachers. All kids are accounted for. Except for two of them."

Natasha dragged a hand over her face.

"Tell them we caught them trying to sneak out of a classroom and placed them in a closet for safe-keeping," she said with a sigh, feeling her body ache. Natasha was bone deep tired, what with Barney and Clint's anger and now this. "Tell them they're safe and accounted for."

"Guys?" came Bruce's tentative voice. "I analyzed some of the goop."

"Are you back at the tower?" Clint asked in surprise. He could practically hear Bruce shrug.

"The Other guy got antsy. I decided it was time to calm down and help with the science instead. Tony will want to see the results."

"What are these things even?" came Bucky's huff from the comm.

"Filled with human DNA, that's what they are," Bruce said, his voice pained. There was a crushing silence.

"Are you saying this is human flesh?" Cap asked, the slightly higher pitch of his voice the only hint to his panic.

"Mixed with pig, horse, and cow."

"That's just sick," Darcy gasped.

Clint tuned them out and glared down at his daughter and her accomplice. Damian looked like he was ready for an attack, his legs a little spread and his fingers thrumming on the escrima sticks, speaking of, how the hell did he get those?  
"I'd like an explanation," Natasha said, getting with the program and putting her hands on her hips in a very intimidating way, and Emma made a face whilst Damian scowled.

"You said we could fight," she replied.

"No. No we didn't. You just took off, which isn't really the best way to show that you're responsible enough to fight with us," he said sternly.

"And then there's the civilian who was dragged into this with you," Natasha said, giving the escrima sticks a look. Damian's fingers tightened around them. 

"Did that look like a civilian to you?" she asked incredulously.

"There are risks with being a billionaire's son, kidnapping risks mainly. I have been forced to learn a lot of battle techniques to keep me out of any trouble," Damian said with a light shrug and what looked like sheepishness creeping onto his features. Yeah. That sure as hell wasn't real.

Neither agent's seemed convinced, but they shared a glance and had one of those mind conversations that took years of partnership to accomplish as flawlessly as they did.

"I like the escrimas," Clint conceded after a while. "I know a girl who likes to whip around with those too. She's pretty good at it."

"I think Bobbi would be angry to hear you say 'pretty good' instead of something more fitting," Natasha said, and Clint snorted.

"Yeah yeah. Put the sticks away and let's get you two out of here."

\---

They were standing in the grass, freezing their asses off as the Avengers made sure everyone was out of the building. Emma was sandwiched in between Hope and Damian, with Layla and TJ in front of them, all of them wiggling to try and create some heat. 

"You know," Layla said thoughtfully as she watched Bucky grab a hold of a rock the size of his upper body and lift it nearly effortlessly. "That looks a lot like your best friend. And that looks a lot like your uncle. And that looks like-"

"Yeah, my family are the fucking Avengers," Emma grit out, her teeth chattering. "You figured it out. Congrats. Don't spill it."

"Man, you're really wound tight, Em," Hope shot in, and she shrugged helplessly and decided that she was colder than she should be right now.

"Sorry. Not in the mood for snooping."

"Snooping?" Layla said, her voice mock offended. "Sweetie, your Uncle Tony picked you up _in his Iron Man suit._ I'm surprised nobody's gotten caught up to it yet."

"That was a pretty spectacular day," Emma said with a happy sigh. She remember the look on the guy's stupid face when she'd punched him and Tony's high fives. Good times.

"I recall you being very smug," Damian said with a squint her way. Emma grinned and decided that the cold was being unmerciful and this called for drastic measures.

She pressed her back to Damian's front and grabbed his arms, wringing them around her and huddling up. He smelled faintly like the purple guck from the monsters still, and he tensed when she wrapped his arms around her, but his arms willingly went and his fingers interlocked to keep them in place where she was holding them.

"Oh man, was I smug. Tony was so chill about it too. Clint laughed. Steve agreed with my actions. It was great," she replied.

After getting checked off, Emma noticed Damian backing up a few steps, still with his arms and torso warming her up. She had no other choice than to follow, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Damian's hot breaths by her ear.

"How is your family going to dispose of the bodies?" he asked, his tone hushed, and Emma relaxed. Alright, not anything she'd been expecting, but it was still so like Damian it made her want to laugh.

Reluctantly, she tapped his hands to make him let her go, and he did, watching her carefully as she turned around.

"I dunno. Clean up and PR is half the work in being a superhero apparently," she replied with a sigh. "I think you and I'll get to skip it though, considering we're kids." Damian scowled in response to that, and Emma grinned. "Yeah, yeah, I know. We are though. I'm actually surprised we got to take on those things."

"I've had worse," he muttered under his breath, and Emma's good post-battle mood disappeared like sand slipping through her fingers. She snapped

"Okay, but what the hell _are_ you?! You just suddenly bust out tazer sticks and call them _escrima_ , and then you sparr like a champ, and then you help me fight an army of fleshlings like nothing, and then you just say ' _I've had worse_ '. How the-"

"I fight crime on a nightly basis!" he snapped, grabbing her flailing wrist out of the air and meeting her eyes. Emma blinked.

"You _what?_ " He gave her a fierce look, daring her to make him say it again. "...I thought you were a fucking assassin!" She punched him in the arm, and he gave her a confused look.

"What?"

"I thought you were a fucking assassin, you know, those guys who kill people. Professionals, you know those," she repeated. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked around, grabbing her arm. Damian pulled her away from the group, and gave her a patented blank look.

"How did you know that?" She gaped at him.

"You're a _fucking assass_ -" He clamped a hand over her mouth for the second time today, and looked around them, making sure no one was listening.

"Was," he replied, his voice a rushed whisper. "Was an assassin. Mother trained me to be one since birth, and when I turned out to be a disappointment, she shipped me off to father. I was ten. He got rid of my most homicidal tendencies, I suppose. I fight crime on a nightly basis by his side, and I'm really damn good at it too. Trust me, I've seen a lot worse."

Emma stared at him blankly, and then grabbed his hand, carefully dragging it off her mouth.

"Why?" she asked, her voice quiet as their eyes locked.

"Why what?"

"Why do you do it? Why does everyone I want to stay safe insist on repeatedly trying to get themselves killed?" Damian gave her a weak smile.

"I help people. I make father proud. I love it. It makes me feel like a fish in water," he replied, just as quiet. Emma tipped her head back to watch her sigh turn into a puff of smoke.

"Why did you all of a sudden decide to tell me this? I thought that the last time you told your dad you wanted to tell me, he threw a fit," she said. Damian looked down at their feet.

"He did."

"Being rebellious, are we?" she joked, and he looked up, his beautiful blue eyes lingering on the column of her throat.

"Yes. I'm going against my father's wishes."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because I trust you."

Of all the things Emma thought he would say, that wasn't really one of her options. She stared at him, eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm really flattered. How did I earn your trust?" she asked. Damian stared blankly at her.

"Don't question rare gifts." Emma threw her hands up in surrender.

"I'm not, I'm not. If your dad flips shit, though, you know my number," she says. Damian stared at her.

"You just carelessly offer comfort like it's not something you have to earn," he said, his face confused. Emma's jaw dropped.

"Damian... Comfort doesn't have to be earned. You just... I mean... If your brother started crying, what would you do?" she asked slowly.

"Which one of them?"

"Dick."

"I would assume Todd would comfort him."

"Oh yeah, because Jason is the best at that, huh?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Damian replied, tilting his head in thought.

"You don't have to earn comfort," she said, shaking her head at him. "Okay? Not from me." He looked away.

"Okay."

"Good."

They stood in silence until they heard Layla yell their names.

"Get your asses over here, we're going to get our shit!" she hollered.

 

Darcy picked Emma up as the Avengers made their way off scene, and the two parties met in back at the tower. Tony and Steve went to face the press, with Darcy and Bucky.

Emma was happy to wash off the purple goop from where it had stained her clothes, and Steve told her that he'd get the stains out of her hoodie. It was a dark hoodie, yeah, but it was a precious one, and if she had stains on it, she'd know, even if nobody else did.

She caught her parents in the act of post-battle snuggling, both still in their work suits and lying on the couch, Natasha sleeping soundly on Clint's chest. Natasha was holding a knife in the hand tucked close to her face, which totally made Emma uneasy.

Deciding that her life was not worth the risk on the off chance that Natasha might cut herself in the face, she decided to let them slide.

"Em," came a hushed call from the pile of arms and legs on their couch. Emma spun around on her heel to find Clint smiling softly at her. She tilted her head, and his smile turned a little wider. "You did good, kiddo. I know I yelled at you, but you did real good. And you managed to get out alive."

Emma didn't mention the way her spine had felt shattered for a few brief seconds after she'd been thrown into a wall and that the sensation had left her breathless and near tears. She'd nearly forgotten the pain from being launched back first into a wall, and she didn't mention the way she shuddered at the thought of being forced to torture yet again.

"Thanks," she said instead, giving him a soft smile.

She retreated down to the common room, getting herself a box of oreos and a glass of milk. Then she went on a hunt. Peter was playing with Bruce in the living room, rolling around on the floor as Bruce let him play with his hands and almost whatever was in his reach as he watched a documentary about bird life.

"Hey Bruce," Emma said tentatively as she sat down on the couch. He hummed but didn't look away from the tv. She stretched an oreo into his line of vision, and he took it from her happily, humming his thanks. "So... Do you know where Clint and Natasha hid my phone?"

"No," Bruce said. "You really think they'd tell me?"

"No. I hoped they would," she sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, are you allowed to tell me where it is?"

"Sadly, I am under strict orders by Agent Barton not to tell you where you can locate your phone, miss," Jarvis replied.

"Can you tell him it's an emergency? I'm pretty sure I'm getting someone kicked out and I'd like to take care of the collateral."

"Who have you gotten kicked out?" Bruce asked from the floor, righting Peter before he fell forward. "Wilson or Kate?"

"Neither," Emma replied breezily.

"Agent Barton demands to know who you are getting kicked out," Jarvis said. Emma lied.

"Hope." There was an ominous silence.

"Your phone is located in the third cupboard from the left, in the Whole Grain Oat Cheerios carton," Jarvis said. Emma scrambled off the couch.

"They're really good at knowing where I'd never stick my nose, ever," she said to herself as she hauled the yellow packed out of the cupboard, finding her phone underneath the bag of cereal. 

She had six missed calls from Damian and a text saying ' _I might stab someone_ ' and another one saying ' _stop me_ '.

Immediately, Emma pressed call and walked into the elevator.

"What?" Damian snapped on the other side, and Emma pressed the button for the lobby.

"Please tell me you haven't stabbed anyone," she said.

"Not yet."

"Good. Where are you?"

"On my way to your gaudy excuse of a home."

"Says the guy who has gold lining's on his mansion walls that his butler takes care of," Emma scoffed, not taking it personally. He was upset.

"Pennyworth is more family than he is servant," he retorted. "My arrival time is estimated to be-" He cut himself off, and then she heard static for a few moments. She stepped out into the lobby, and then Damian was grumbling something in Arabic. "I'm here."

The doors opened, and delivered a very miffed and snowy Damian, basically seething so much it was surprising the snowflakes in his hair weren't melting from the sheer anger he was radiating.

She waved, and he strode over to her, his anger ebbing away with every step and making his tense shoulders dropping.

"That was fast," Emma said.

"Ah... Prince gave me a ride," he said slowly. 

"Prince, the singer Prince?" Emma laughed. He gave a slight roll of the eyes.

"No. My... Aunt."

"You call your aunt by her last name? Weirdo," Emma smiled as she grabbed Damian's hand and led him into the elevator. His shoulders seemed to be less tense now, and she noticed she'd actually interlocked their fingers, and that she was currently holding Damian's hand.

She kinda felt like the Damian-whisperer.

Which, considering he'd been close to stabbing someone just earlier, was probably pretty good. Emma took a risk and squeezed his hand in hers.

"I take it your dad didn't take it well?" she said gently. Damian stared straight ahead as the elevator began to rise.

"He called me a 'narcissistic, arrogant, thoughtless child'." On Damian's lips, a smile ghosted. "He yelled at me to get out, and I did."

Emma sighed and leaned her head down on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, and Damian swallowed. 

"It's not your fault. I was being selfish. I wanted you to know and I went against father's wishes. Mother would punish me far worse than father ever could."

Okay, that was creepy. But he looked so distant and drained that she didn't want to push. The doors slid open and they walked into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Bruce called from the living room.

"Damian's here!" Emma called back.

"Does Natasha know? Or Clint?" Bruce yelled as Emma pulled Damian's coat off, hanging it on the wall and forcing him to take off his shoes.

"Nope!"

"You should tell them!"

"Yeah yeah," she muttered and pushed Damian down to sit by the kitchen counter. She pulled a tub of Ben & Jerry's out of the fridge, and thanked god for Steve's and Bucky's increasing dependence on it. Grabbing two spoons, she sat down in the chair next to Damian and braced her besocked foot on his thigh. 

They ate in silence for a while, before Bruce came in with Peter in his arms.

"Hold," he said, and stretched the baby out to her. Instinctively, Emma took Peter off his hands as he grabbed a snack for him. 

"Peter, this is Damian. Shake hands, boys," she said with a slight smirk and grabbed Peter's hand, stretching out towards Damian. Peter was old now, nine months old and bright enough to recognize that Tony was mama, Steve was dada, and he almost aimed before he threw blocks at people.

Damian scowled at Peter, who only blinked at him with huge eyes as Damian reached a finger out, getting it firmly grasped by Peter. Emma grinned.

"Look at that. He likes you." Peter's other hand shot out, and then Damian had web in his face. 

To his credit, Damian blinked twice as Emma laughed, and then wiped the web off his cheek and instead rubbed it off on Emma's cheek, who squealed with laughter.

"I'm holding a baby, stop!" she laughed and batted his hand away with the one that wasn't clutching Peter. 

"Your family is the strangest bunch of individuals I have ever encountered," Damian said and gave Peter a squinty look. "Even the baby has superpowers."

"Well, to be fair, we didn't know Peter had superpowers till he walked up a wall," Bruce said, turning around with a cup of tea and a snack tray in his hands. "He just randomly started shooting webs as well. Radioactive spiders, we believe."

"Fascinating."

"We're like the Incredibles!" Emma gasped.

"Mm. No. Don't say that around Tony. He'd start ranting about Reed, and even though Tony is fascinating and it's incredible with how few breaths he needs to take in between sentences, I really can't sit through another one of his Reed-rants," Bruce said as he sat the tray down on the kitchen table and repositioned Peter in his high chair.

"Let's go upstairs," Emma said, grabbing the ice cream and licking her spoon as they took the elevator up. Damian was watching out of the corner of his eye.

Clint and Natasha had relocated to the bathroom, probably treating wounds and showering. Damian's lip was still split and his ribs seemed to hurt as he breathed. Emma wished she could share her powers with him.

They snuck into her room and she plopped down on her bed as he dragged a chair over setting the ice cream on her nightstand in between them.

"Jarvis, turn off all video feeds or whatever thing that can hear us or see us. I don't want any ears or eyes in this room. Okay?"

"Yes, miss," Jarvis replied. 

Emma turned to look at Damian as he leaned back in her chair and closed his eyes. 

"I'm exhausted."

"Because you have your nightly activities to keep you up?" He opened one eye to shoot her an annoyed look.

"Yes. Amongst other things that exhaust me. Like you." She grinned.

"Well, in case it calms you, I know you're doing stupid shit, but I don't know who you're doing stupid shit _as_. You could be the  Human Torch for all I know."

"I assure you I'm not the Human Torch."

"That'd be pretty sweet though."

"...It seems tedious."

"Randomly combusting? Well I guess so. Still pretty sweet."

They discussed tv shows and everything and nothing essential until Emma's door slammed open. They both looked up in confusion to find Clint with his hands on his hips and his jaw set in a sharp line of confusion and befuddlement. 

"And, uh, when did Damian get here?" Clint said with a raised eyebrow. 

"A while back," Emma said, giving him her best puppy eyed look. "I hope that's okay. I kinda threw him out on the line today." Clint rubbed a hand over his face.

"Right. Sure. I'm seriously too tired to be a responsible parent. Me and your mom are gonna take a nap and I bet Cap and Stark will be back to make dinner in like... Five minutes, tops."

"Mkay." He turned to leave, and Emma got a bright flash of an idea as she saw Natasha walk by in a cami and shorts. "Dad?" He turned back with a slight smile, it usually had that effect on Clint.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Can Damian sleep over?" Both Damian and Clint looked at her like she was out of her mind. "What? You can seriously not be considering going back there right now." She directed that question at Damian, and Natasha's head peeked around the corner.

"Sure. I bet we can drag two of the mattresses into your room and put them on top of each other. School is cancelled tomorrow anyways."

"Yay!"

"No no no, not done talking through this yet!" Clint said, and Natasha sighed with a slight smile, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

"It's Emma. We trust her. They need some comfort. They had a tough day," she mumbled, her thumbs rubbing at a kink in his neck. Clint all but melted in her skilled hands.

"I still don't like it," he said, giving Emma a stern look that made her smile. "But fine. Get the mattresses and call your dad. Now, I really need a nap or I'm going to just fall asleep on your floor. I'll send Lucky in to keep an eye on you two."

Natasha smirked and dragged Clint into her room, throwing him down on the bed and ravaging his mouth in a hot tangle of tongues, before curling up into his side, kissing his neck and hearing the happy sigh slip out of his lips right before she muttered a nearly unintelligible 'hearing aids'.

Damian texted Dick that he was staying over, and got a phone call from Alfred and one from Tim, and he ignored both of them as they hauled the two mattresses with help of Steve into her room. He strangely had no protests, and Tony teased them only lightly before letting Damian borrow some of his washed out, outgrown clothes.

Emma nearly fainted when she found Damian in a Black Sabbath shirt and sweatpants. Bucky nudged her in the back, and she shoved him as he laughed at her flushing cheeks.

They ate together and then Emma and Damian went to bed, having a brush off at the same time as they tried to kick the other one in the ribs, and ended up spectacularly on their asses. They watched some Supernatural before bed, and Emma smiled when Lucky was sent into their room and Steve called light's out.

"Goodnight Dami."

"Goodnight, Emma."

\---

 


	52. Talks And Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> Sorry for being late, life is fucking me over big time and I haven't been able to write very well recently. So, sadly enough, I'm abandoning my schedule until further notice. I'll try to update at least every two weeks, but I'm spreading myself thin and I don't feel like I'm writing any good material, y'know?  
> Anyways, this chapter is just... I can't stop bringing in more and more superheroes? Basically. And theres some Clintasha fluff that made me happy writing a while ago, so there's that... Why am I still talking again?  
> Enjoy! <3

 

"Captain America!"

"Mr. Rogers!"

"Tony!"

Steve ignored the dull hum of a headache and the pain in his ribs as he watched Bucky practically twitch in the corner of his vision. Darcy was answering the questions they threw at her, and thank  _god_  they'd hired her as their public speaker. She was trained for it, had the degree to prove it, and he was constantly being reminded of how brilliant Darcy Lewis was.

"What's the Winter Soldier doing on a team of heroes?" someone called out, and Darcy frowned as Bucky tensed up. 

"I hate when they ask shit like that," Tony mumbled under his breath, and Steve's hand itched to link with his fiance's.

"Don't we all," Bucky muttered back. 

"Would Captain America like to answer that question?" Darcy said, leaning on her podium and giving Steve a 'I'll fuck you up if you don't do what I'm telling you to do right now' look that quite honestly made Steve's spine straighten up, his military training kicking in.

"Yes, Ma'm. I believe that the Winter Soldier has changed. Wildly, and rapidly, and he has turned into a better person. Today he has saved my team numerous times, and proven himself loyal to our cause. Since no bystanders or children have been hurt, and since he did no wrong, I don't see why he shouldn't be allowed to be with us," Steve replied. Darcy did a slight twist of her mouth that wasn't entirely displeased.

"What makes your belief so strong in his change? Can it be childhood emotions?" someone called from the back, and Tony snorted derisively.

"Would you like to take that one, Tony?" Darcy said, obviously amused as she leaned her chin on her palm, raising her eyebrows. Tony shrugged.

"Sure. Bucky over there, he's changed rapidly and wildly, as Cap so beautifully put it, because he's found a girl he likes."

"A girlfriend?" another pressperson called, and Bucky actually scoffed.

"Yeah, no," Tony said with a smirk. "Hawkeye and Widow's kid. She's, what, like ten? They're the best of pals. I know right? I can barely believe it either, but they're really cute."

"She's not ten, Tony," Steve said with a light smile. Tony waved his hand dismissively. 

"Yeah yeah. Anyways, if he can play nice with Emma, the kid, and can play nice with us adults, and take care of himself and hasn't had a murderous rampage in almost a year, why shouldn't he be rewarded? He knows what he's doing, he's obviously skilled at what he does, and he has the right motive. Serve and protect."

"Are you saying his loyalties are to America now? Isn't the Winter Soldier Russian?" another dumb reporter said. 

"He'll break out in Russian sometimes when he's arguing with the Black Widow over the remote, and sometimes he'll make this seriously delicious Russian bread, but other than that, I think he'd pick up the red, white, and blue anytime," Darcy said, shooting Bucky a look. He was silent for a second, contemplating.

"Honestly, I don't mind the red, white, and blue as long as it's not trying to punch me in the face," he replied, and received a small chuckle from the audience, which was weird to him. Did he say something funny? He was just trying to earn their trust, which seemed to be very hard. 

"See? He's even developed a sense of humor! Before Emma came along, he didn't even talk unless Steve asked very nicely and pleadingly," Tony said with a wave.

"Is the Winter Soldier joining the Avengers?" a woman in the front asked, her tone clipped and definitely not friendly.

"For now? Nah. We don't have any plans on making him an Avenger, really, at least not in the nearest future. He'll need to sit through the try-outs and sign a morality clause and stuff, but he's good back up when we need a... Hand. He mostly just eats weird midnight snacks and watches out for Emma. Which is a hard task, and he's doing a good job of."

"Is there any chance we'll get to see Emma soon?" a reporter asked hopefully.

"No," Bucky said, his voice normal but with an edge to it he didn't even realize was there before Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

"We'd still like to keep her our little secret," Darcy amended, smiling brightly. "That'll have to be all, I'm afraid. Thank you for your time."

They exited the room, and crowded into the elevator as stars danced behind Bucky's eyes from the camera flashes. Darcy leaned into his side with a sigh, and Steve gave her a smile.

"You did good," he said. She smirked at him. 

"Oh, I know. It's just really tiring. How can they handle all the yelling?" she asked with her nose scrunched up. Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulder and got a pleased hum in response. 

Darcy was a tactile person, and kissed people's cheeks, and hugged a lot, but she didn't push him to do anything he wasn't okay with. Kissing, yeah, he liked that, really liked that, and there was something he couldn't help but find alluring about his metal fingers shining against her pale skin, but she didn't push. Darcy was a huge catch, and he really didn't feel like he deserved her after what he'd done. 

When he'd voiced that opinion out loud, Darcy had looked so shocked and horrified that he was scared she was going to faint, but then she slid into his lap and kissed him senseless before telling him that he didn't deserve anything less. Which in itself was kind of upsetting, but Bucky was grateful enough that she put up with his shit as well as her own to not mention it.

She poked his cheek.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Darcy asked with a small smile. He turned to her, tilted his head.

"You," he replied truthfully. She blinked a few times.

"What about me?"

"Your incomprehensible patience and kindness." Her surprised smile could outshine the sun in his opinion.

"Can you two do this out of the elevator, please?" Tony said, not looking up from where he was typing on his phone. "You all know that deep, deep, deep, deep down I'm a gushy romantic, but I'd rather be in the moment than an awkward bystander when someone makes love vows."

Steve sent them an apologetic look, but brought Tony into his side with a simple grab of his hip, and Tony immediately leaned into the contact like a cat, his still tense shoulders relaxing.

"We're gonna have dinner, and then you, me, and Peter are going to have a nap date," Steve murmured into Tony's ear, not loud enough for someone without heightened senses to hear from a distance, and Tony finally lifted his gaze from his phone, directing a smirk Steve's way.

"I'd like that very much," he said, and Steve smiled before giving him a light kiss, making Darcy huff.

"At least we don't dirty talk in here," she said with raised eyebrows, and Bucky shook his head.

"That's not what he said. Stark would just like you to think that. Playboy image, 'member?" Steve smiled and Tony laughed.

"Sure. We'll try to keep the dirty talk out of the elevator next time," he said with a wink Darcy's way.

\---

Clint and Natasha spent the evening napping lazily and kissing sleepily. Clint made a nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor and they napped there for a while. It was glorious. Clint was sure that he'd never felt so at home in his entire life. At three am, they had chinese take out and watched action movies in the nest, deciding what was real and could and couldn't be done. 

After that, they slept some more. When had they ever slept this much? It was nice though, and in between their naps, Natasha got popcorn shoved down her shirt and Clint got whacked over the back of the head with a newspaper, and by nine am, they were making out like teenagers in Clint's bed. 

"We should probably get up," Natasha murmured into the crook of his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. He groaned.

"Why?"

"Because we're responsible adults who shouldn't lounge in bed all day."

"Speak for yourself," Clint grinned, and Natasha chuckled as he pressed kisses to her jaw, and down her throat. "We could have breakfast in bed?"

"We just ate."

"Like, six hours ago. I'm hungry. Tell you what, I'll go get the coffee running, and grab some cereal and we'll stay in bed for the rest of the day."

"That sounds tempting, but I asked Steve and James to go running with me today."

"Lemme guess, you're picking up Sam on the way like four suburban moms?" Natasha chuckled again.

"Something like that. Though I don't think I'd suit as a suburban mother."

"Didn't we have a cover as a suburban couple in California once? I believe you made a perfect suburban mother."

"We were just a suburban couple. No children. Your memory isn't very spotless."

"Thank a special someone's brother for that." Natasha's soft gaze turned hard.

"No talking about him right now. I don't want him in our bed."

"Oh, so it's  _our_  bed now?" Clint replied jokingly. Natasha didn't take jokes about Loki lightly, and always got that look in her eyes that promised that blood would be shed when he made stupid jokes about him.

"Yes," she replied simply. Clint grinned.

"Man, I wonder what Emma would say if we moved to the suburbs," he said, hoisting himself up onto his elbows and watching Natasha roll her eyes.

"She would probably be pretty scared. Plus, the suburban moms gave you the creeps."

"True, true. Let's stay in New York, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Natasha pressed him back down onto her chest with a huff, and he complied, melted into her touch as he felt her fingers run over his scalp, running through the blonde strands. He hummed contentedly, and his eyelids slipped closed.

"I love you," he murmured softly without thinking. He took a deep breath, breathed in the scent of her skin, before he noticed how Natasha's hands stopped carding through his hair, her breath caught.

Within seconds, he was laying alone in his bed, and Natasha was standing by the bed, staring at him with wide, terrified eyes. Clint almost bit his tongue off at the sight.

"Love is for children," Natasha said, her voice trembling just in the slightest. He quickly realized his mistake, but found that he didn't regret it one bit. Slowly, Clint moved onto his knees on the mattress, and locked eyes with Natasha. 

"Then let's be children."

He took one of her hands, kissed it gently, barely brushing his lips over her skin, and she swallowed hard.

"Come back to bed, Tash," he murmured, gently, oh so gently, and Natasha could wrap herself up in the warm, soothing sound of his voice, but she  _shouldn't_. She really shouldn't. "Or, you know, you could keep standing there, looking like you're going to dissect me. That works too, I guess. Less comfortable for you, though," he said, a hint of nervousness slipping into his tone.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you suddenly come to the conclusion that you love me?" Clint was still holding her hand, and Natasha let her hand be held.

"I've been thinking about it for a while. Probably a lot longer subconsciously. I just... You're so... I can't even put words to it. You're beautiful and amazing and smart and you try so hard to be a better person than you once was. You call me out on my shit, and you're great with our kid, our  _kid_ , how crazy is that even, and you care about this little impromptu family we've got a lot more than you put on. So yeah. I love you."

The words didn't catch in his throat like he thought they would, because he hadn't said them in forever, but Natasha's face was still that blank that showed she was internally battling herself. 

She retracted her hand from his, and Clint felt a stab of pain in his chest, hurt, sorrow, until she placed said hand on his sternum and pushed him back on the bed. Natasha straddled him and kissed him like she could lick the words out of his mouth, taste them on his tongue, and Clint took that as much as an answer as he felt he could.

_I love you too._

\---

With a stupid grin on his face, Clint emerged from his bedroom half an hour later, freshly showered and just putting his hearing aids back in. When it was warm or he sparred with someone, his ears always felt icky, what with his hearing aids in, and showers were no different. Natasha said he should go some days without them if it bothered him that much, but not hearing was a scarier prospect than icky ears.

Clint got the coffeemachine going, and sank down in a chair by the small kitchen island in their kitchen. It was more of a kitchenette, really, since they rarely ever cooked anything up here. Natasha could make spaghetti and toast without breaking anything, and even though Clint wasn't a bad cook, he really liked it better when he didn't have to work for it. Hence the take out on his cooking days.

The door to Emma's room opened a few minutes later, and he looked up at the noise.

"Hi kids," Clint said as the two teens trotted out of Emma's room. She didn't even answer him, just made a beeline for the bathroom, but Damian grunted and made a noise that sounded vaguely like 'coffee'. Taking pity on the poor, caffeine-less kid, he motioned towards the coffeemachine. Damian hummed happily and strode over.

When Emma came back from the bathroom, she was frowning, and Damian had drained half of his cup, which was apparently enough to be civil for him. Clint was starting to like Damian more, and admired that that was all it took. It usually took Clint at least a cup and a half, and Tony maybe two cups on mornings where he hadn't slept, but half a cup? The kid was impressive.

"What's the matter, Em?" he asked. She scratched her head thoughtfully and sat down next to them by the kitchen island.

"I don't think I'm entirely healed from yesterday, which is weird," she said thoughtfully.

"Why? Are you in pain?" Damian asked, briefly letting his lips slide away from his cup. 

"Not really. I'm bleeding though."

"Where?" Clint asked with furrowed eyebrows. Her healing ability was pretty out of control, but it really shouldn't leave her bleeding. Emma motioned to her crotch area. 

"I dunno. Somewhere here. I couldn't find the wound, but I'm guessing I have a cut on the inside of my thigh or something." Clint blanked, and Damian's eyes widened in the slightest, which essentially meant that he was as freaked as Clint. "What?"

"Um... Are you considering the fact that it might be... Your... Time of the month?" Clint suggested, internally wincing. Emma gave him a confused look.

"What's that?"

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"What, what?" Emma asked, her eyebrows furrowing further. "What's time of the month?"

"Tasha!" Clint called, noticing Damian looking highly uncomfortable. Emma still looked as confused as can be.

"What the hell is going on? Why are you two looking at me like I'm the plague or something?" she asked as Clint's door slid open. Natasha was wearing gray sweats and one of Clint's shirts, her hair in a bun on top of her head. She raised one eyebrow at them.

"You're a girl," Clint blurted out, stupidly. Natasha's other eyebrow rose and Clint could  _taste_  his foot getting shoved into his mouth. "I think it's Emma's time of the month."

"Okay, is that an universal term that I need to learn?" Emma asked. 

"Not really. Clint is just too scared to say period." The archer pretended he didn't feel his cheeks heat. Damian looked away as if this conversation was bothering him as well. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"What's period?" Emma asked curiously. Natasha blinked.

"You don't know what a period is?" she asked incredulously. Emma shrugged at her.

"No? I said I didn't think I was healed from yesterday yet, which is really weird, because I'm bleeding from somewhere around here," she motioned yet again towards her crotch, "and Clint says it's my time of the month?"

"Alright, I'll call Pepper," Natasha said and dug her hand into her pocket.

"Why can't you tell me about periods?" Emma asked. Natasha froze suddenly.

"I don't get periods." Her voice was low and soft.

"Why not? Is it rare?"

"No, возлюбленный. All the girls get their periods at some point in puberty," Natasha replied and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Why don't you?" Emma asked. Natasha gave Clint a fleeting look.

"Because I don't need it." Damian furrowed his eyebrows, and Emma just looked confused out of her mind. "Pepper?" She turned to walk away with her heart pounding, but decided to wave Emma along so that they could take care of this asap.

She'd gotten her period three times until the Red Room decided she didn't need it anymore. The feeling of being robbed was yet again rearing it's ugly head as she sat through Emma and Pepper's talk about periods. Emma asked a lot of questions, and as expected, Pepper answered them easily.

"But that's so unfair!" Emma protested. "Why does it hurt? Do boys have periods?"

"No. Boys don't have periods," Pepper replied with a small smile.

"Then why do we?"

"To keep the human race alive, sweetie."

"Right. But why the pain?"

"It'll make it easier when the time comes to actually have a baby."

"That's really stupid," Emma yet again pointed out, and Pepper nodded.

"Yeah. And unfair, I know. It's tedious, but once your cycle stabilizes, you'll be able to know when it's coming, and prepare yourself."

Natasha felt robbed and scrubbed raw as she and Emma made their way back to Clint and Damian, still sitting uncomfortably by the counter. Natasha sat down beside Clint, and he placed the hand that wasn't clutching his coffee on the small of her back, grounding her. 

Somehow he knew which lines of her body were tense when she was upset about something, but didn't ask, and Natasha listened with half an ear as Emma and Damian argued about his house.

"I'm not hiding here forever," Damian declared, and Emma frowned.

"Yeah, yeah you are."

"Em, he's gotta go back sometime," Clint reminded her, his warm, calloused fingers running over the small of Natasha's back in small circles. 

"But dad!"

"I need to go back. I will not show weakness like that again," Damian said, his head tipping up and his shoulders straightening.

"God, what are you doing, trying to have a perfect posture? Stop that, you're a teenager, slouch," Emma said, poking him square in the chest. He gave her a look. A  _look_. She groaned. "Fine. At least have your aunt pick you up." Damian sighed.

"You worry too much."

"Kidnapping.  _Risk_ ," she punctuated, and he honest to god laughed, making her insides flutter a little.

"I'll call Prince," he said with a tut, and Emma scowled.

"Can I meet her?" Damian took his time on that one.

"Fine. I believe she would find you very intriguing."

After being fed delicious pancakes by Steve in an apron and hearing Tony feed Peter with air plane noises in the background, Emma and Damian re-dressed, and Damian called his aunt.

Emma followed him yet again to the curb, and stood there, rocking on her heels next to Damian in the thick snow.

"So, is your aunt nice?" she asked. Damian tsked.

"She has the same job as I do, except she prefers to do it in daylight," he replied, and Emma smirked at him.

"So she's all about justice?"

"And truth," Damian replied flippantly. Emma's eyes widened and she grabbed his arm.

"Wait wait wait wait. Truth and justice and female? Is your aunt..." She looked around and turned to him to whisper into his ear. "Wonder Woman?"

"Yes," he said calmly, and Emma freaked out a little.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You better not be fucking kidding me, Damian Wayne, because I will punch you, don't think that I won't," she threatened, her eyes wide as he gave her that smirk that made her insides flutter. "You're not kidding," she said, and he shook his head. "I think I'm gonna cry."

"Please don't," Damian said, turning his eyes toward a dark red car rolling up by the curb. 

"Oh my fucking god," Emma whispered to herself, and Damian's smirk turned into a grin, pleased that he could surprise her.

"Stop laughing at me!" Emma said, and grabbed some snow from the curb, throwing it at him. Damian snorted and bent down to grab his own snow to throw back, when the door opened, and a tall woman with black hair tamed climbed out of it. Emma stood stunned as she smiled at Damian.

"Put the snow down," the woman said, her voice powerful and smooth, and Emma grabbed Damian's coat to steady herself.  _Wonder Woman_. Living with a few of the Earth's mightiest heroes still didn't prepare her for meeting another one of her heroes.

"Prince. Saved by the bell, Barton. Don't think I won't get you back for that," Damian said, giving Emma that satisfied smirk that made her want to shove snow down his shirt.

"You must be Emma," Wonder Woman said, her smile bright. "I'm Diana."

"Holy shit," Emma said, out loud this time. "Hi," she managed at Diana's amused look.

"Hello. I don't see why Bruce sees you as a threat," she said thoughtfully, giving the tower a meaning glance.

"Uh, yeah, beats me. Thank god the next generation doesn't," Emma said, and patted Damian's cold cheek, still with her other hand clinging to the fabric of Damian's coat's elbow.

"Speaking of," Diana said, zeroing in on Damian, who tipped his nose up defiantly. "You need to apologize to your father."

"I will do no such thing," Damian replied. "I don't regret my decision." 

"You don't?" Emma said, finally ripping her star struck gaze from Diana to look at her friend. He gave her a look back.

"No."

"Why not? You got yelled at."

"Worse things have been done to me due to disobedience." She gaped at him.

"I seriously hate your mother, just, letting you know."

"Noted."

"Come on Damian," Diana said, her gaze showing that this argument was far from over. "Let's get you home." Damian nodded slowly and exhaled, giving Emma a look.

"Thank you for-" Emma put a hand over his mouth to stop whatever he was saying.

"Yeah, I know, I know, I'm awesome. No need to thank me. I take my thanks in hugs anyways," she said. Damian's eyes narrowed, and she grinned at him, attacking him in a hug. His arms were light around her ribs, and she reveled in the smell of him, memorizing it. She had a feeling she wouldn't get to see Damian in a while.

The two slipped into the car, and Emma watched them go, her shoulders slouching a little.

"You're so fucking down for him."

She whipped around to see Bucky looking smug behind her, in black soft pants and a grey hoodie, as if it wasn't colder than an ice box outside. His hair was pulled up into a pony tail and his one eyebrow was raised in that annoying way that Emma would've been delighted to see any other time. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Screw you, James."

"James? Ouch, doll, low blow."

"I'm not fucking down for him," she persisted, and walked towards him, ready to shove his ass into the snow.

"Sure," Bucky nodded.

"What the hell are you doing out here anyways? Shouldn't you be... Not here?"

"I'm waiting for your mom and Stevie. We're going out for a run."

"Why?" Bucky shrugged.

"Natalia knows I get antsy and Stevie likes running."

"That's just beyond me. The running part. Why does one like running?"

"You're just lazy," he said and pinched her cheek in a really old man way that made her shove him and made him smirk at her.

"I am not! Screw you!" Emma said with a huff and collided with his torso. She hugged him too, just because she could, before telling him not to freeze his ass off, and running back inside. She collided with Natasha and hugged her too, for good measure, and got a small smile on the ex-assassins face for her efforts.

That day, everybody received hugs in the Avengers family, and there was genuine surprise from Bruce, and a smooch on the cheek from Darcy, and a smile from Jane, and Emma felt truly loved as they ate dinner that night.

\---

Thanksgiving was a tradition heavily enforced in the Avengers family, due to Steve's patriotism and the family's love for food. Pepper joined them gladly, but Darcy drove home to her mom and Jane followed, leaving a mopey Thor and a silent Bucky behind. Bucky did that old timesy kiss with Darcy before she left that Tony and Steve kept doing to traumatize Clint, the one where he dipped her as they kissed.

Emma hadn't heard from Damian in five days, and their school had decided that while SI helped rebuild the building, they would have the kids moved to another, recently shut down school in the area. It would be cramped, but it would be enough to hold them all, and the school year could continue for another three and a half weeks. She was looking forward to seeing him again when the school re opened.

Layla and Hope hadn't heard anything from him either, and TJ had gotten a message from Damian two days ago, telling him that he was fine and that the girls needed to stop worrying. Which sounded enough like Damian for Emma to keep up her continuous texting.

Emma hadn't celebrated Thanksgiving either, which obviously made Tony want to go all out to show her the wonders of Thanksgiving. Rhodey showed up, and so did his mother. Mrs. Rhodes was intimidating and quickly coaxed Clint, Steve, Tony, and Rhodey into her kitchen helpers. Pepper and Natasha took their wine into the living room, and Kate arrived with a snowy Lucky just in time for dinner. 

So, for Emma, Thanksgiving was awesome. She ate so much she was afraid she was going to burst at the seams, and nobody else seemed in much better condition. 

"Ah, shit!" Tony exclaimed, righting himself and slipping out from underneath Steve's arm. "We forgot to say what we're thankful for! That's a big deal. Clint, you go first."

Clint rolled his eyes, but sighed happily, with Kate smushed under his arm. She had her head tipped back, almost in a food coma but not quite there yet.

"Hm. Well, I'm thankful for family, food, dogs, Steve's incapacity to understand modern tech, and arrows. And wi-fi," he adds.

"Clint marked down the essentials," Kate supplied, not lifting her head up from his arm. 

"What about you, dear?" Mrs. Rhodes asked, directing her gaze towards Emma with eyes that show wisdom and strength. Everyone's gazes turned toward her, where she was curled underneath Bucky's arm.

"Me?" she asked. 

"Seeing as we're all staring at you, yeah," Tony supplied, and Emma snorted at him. She thought for a moment.

"Honestly, I'm thankful for how life turned out," she said, scratching her cheek sheepishly. "I'm thankful for having a family that cares about me like it does. I'm thankful for being alive. I'm thankful for going to school and eating and not being captured or living on scraps or... Doing bad stuff. The trouble I get into wouldn't book me a ticket to juvie now. So I'm thankful for that."

The table was silent for a while, and then Bucky squeezed her shoulder gently.

"I'm thankful for even having a family. I'm thankful for not being brainwashed. I'm thankful for remembering other Thanksgiving's with Sarah doing the cooking." That sentence made Steve blink and give his friend a wide smile, and surprisingly, Bucky smiled back, albeit that small smile he rarely used that was genuine. "I'm thankful for this little thing," he said and pointedly poked Emma in the stomach, receiving a poke on the cheek in return. "And I'm thankful for patience."

"Aren't we all," Natasha said, giving Clint a look that made his lips quirk in a half smile. Tony gave Steve a shy smile, and Steve wrapped his arm back around his fiance. Bruce scratched the back of his neck and received a blinding grin from Tony. 

They all went around, saying their thanks, until there was only Natasha left. Pepper raised an eyebrow at her in challenge, and Natasha hummed.

"I'm thankful for... The future. For giving the ones who need the time to change," she said slowly, giving Tony a glance as she said her next words. "For love. For healing battle scars so deep you always feel them. And I'm thankful for being able to admit that I have a family."

"You always did," Tony said, without hesitation. "Screw being related by blood, no offence Mrs. Rhodes. That sucks. Who says you can't pick your family? I call bullshit."

There was a light chuckle from around the table, and Thor placed a huge hand warmly on Natasha's shoulder.

"This tower and these people are family," he said, his usual, booming voice much softer and lower. "Thou are a team as well as family."

"They're your family too," she said, slouching back in her chair a little as everyone went over to other subjects. Thor nodded solemnly, but had a pained look on his face. 

"Your need for family is stronger than mine, Natasha." He'd caught on that calling her 'Lady Natasha' wasn't acceptable, and 'Warrior Natasha' just as bad. It was Natasha or nothing. 

"Need?" she asked, feeling all the shutters slam closed, until Thor grimaced.

"You were raised with death and blood and war. I was brought up with love and cherishing. You deserve the tender love you receive."

She turned her head away, nodding absently as her eyes locked with Clint, looking at her and biting his lip over the table. Very few people in this room had a good track record with families. She supposed this was as close as they'd ever get, and she was thankful. Natasha was truly thankful.

\---


	53. Sickness And Superjobs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed this chapter a lot quicker than I thought I would?? Nice.  
> Enjoy my lovelies! Your support means the world to me! <3

 

Emma joined up with her fellow classmates on Monday, tackling her friends in hugs. Well. Not all of them, sadly. Three out of four was still good.

"Have you guys seen Damian?" Emma asked worriedly, looking over the heads around her. No dark, brooding frame looming around to be seen.

"No, haven't heard from him either," Layla said, biting her lip and worrying her blonde hair. She had taken to cardigans when she couldn't stand the cold, and today it was a lavender purple, thick and a little fuzzy. Emma kinda wanted to burrow in it. 

"Me neither," TJ said, and Hope shrugged miserably. Emma hauled her phone out, dialing his number. She'd done it before, and she doubted that he'd pick up, but she wanted to call him anyways. Just... To check up on him.

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard the tell tale click of someone picking up.

"Um, hi?" came Tim's stressed voice. Emma turned away from the others, not liking the way her heart dropped a little as she realized it was Tim, and not Damian. 

"Tim, it's Emma, where's Damian?" she asked quickly. There was a silence on the other side, and she walked off, shooting her friends a smile over her shoulder and a thumbs up. No need to worry them just yet.

"Hurt." This time, her heart most definitely stopped.

"What?" she hissed into the phone, and Tim sighed.

"He crashed head first into a wall. Got a kinda serious concussion, and Bruce wants to keep him home for a while so that Damian won't try to strain himself. He does that a lot."

"Can you put him on?" 

"I'd rather not. He and Bruce are still arguing."

"About me?" Emma grimaced, feeling a stab of guilt.

"Well," Tim said uncomfortably. "That, and the fact that he crashed into a wall head first. Bruce thinks you're messing with his head."

" _What._ "

"And that Damian is being unfocused and reckless, which isn't really news, but he's now pointing it out more than ever."

"He crashed into a fucking wall, _head first_? I'm just gonna have to murder him." That made Tim snort. "Please put him on?" Tim groaned. 

"Not a good idea."

"Pretty, pretty please?" she said, making her voice a little brighter and a little more hushed. Yeah. She knew how to get her way. Tim seemed conflicted, and then there was the sound of a door opening, and vague yelling in the background, before she heard Tim's muffled voice talking. After some shuffling, she heard a huff of angry breath in the receiver. 

"What?" came Damian's usual snarl, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

"You idiot," she said happily. Shit. She'd wanted to sound angrier, but really, hearing Damian's voice at all was relaxing. There was a pause.

"You say I'm an idiot like that and I won't believe you," he replied, and she laughed softly.

"You're such a fucking idiot, and you need to not ever get hurt," she said, in the same tone.

"I can't promise that," he replied quietly.

"I know. Just sucks, ya know? It's lonely here without you. We miss you. I miss you." A stunned silence followed her words.

"Really?"

"Really really. Layla doesn't live up to your level of eye-rolling." He snorted.

"Thank you. I feel that it brings so much to our group discussions."

"I can practically _hear_ you rolling your eyes!" Damian muffled a laugh.

"Yes, Barton, I'm rolling my eyes. Problem with that?"

"None at all. Just miss it."

"You are blatantly forward about how you feel."

"What's the point of feeling something if I can't talk about it?" There was yet _another_ stunned silence. "Seriously? Your parents need to take parenting classes. Jesus christ."

"Mm. Interesting observation." Emma didn't feel like prodding on that with Damian having a head injury.

"When are you coming back?" she asked carefully.

"I'm not sure."

"Pick up your fucking phone then. Seriously. You could've been dead. I was worried about you, you asshole," Emma said, finally managing to sound more serious.

"I'm only allowed two hours of screen time at the moment, and I've been spending it on Supernatural."

"Dude! Stop watching ahead of me!"

"You are at the end of season nine. I'm at the beginning of season four. I'm not catching up to you any time soon."

"Still. There are some episodes I want to watch with you just to see your reactions."

"Fine." The warning bell sounded, and Emma sighed. 

"I gotta go. Call me later, okay?"

"I shall. Bye Emma." She smiled.

"Bye Dami."

She walked back to her other friends, following Hope to their classroom with a stupid smile on her face.

\---

Emma wouldn't get to see Damian for another two weeks. 

The day before he was supposed to come back to school, she was sitting in the playpen with Peter, wiping some webs off her clothes.

"You know, you're gonna have to stop doing that. It's stressing your parents out. They think you're gonna eat flies. I don't think you will though," she said thoughtfully. "You're just gonna be a cute normal little kid, aren't you?"

Peter was gripping the railing of the playpen, giving Bucky a look where he was sat on the couch. He made a happy noise/squeal, and Emma laughed, catching him as his grip on the railing gave out. She splayed him out on his back, and when she laughed, there was a burning sensation in her throat. Huh. That was weird.

She coughed a little and Peter gave her a befuddled look. Bucky gave her a strange look as well.

"Okay, Em?" he asked. She shrugged him off. 

"Yeah." There was a pressure steadily building in her head, making her head feel heavy and stuffed with cotton. Peter toppled back onto his back, and she grinned at him, got a cheeky, toothless grin back. "You cutiepie!" Emma squealed, tickling Peter's belly and getting him to laugh and squirm and kick his legs in the air. Her head was hurting and so was her throat, which was weird, but at least Peter was still cute.

"You sure?" Bucky asked, and she rubbed at her temples a little.

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

The pressure was steadily building, and the edges of her vision were getting a little blurry. She felt sleepy. 

"Um," she mumbled, and just before black ink pooled underneath her eyelids, Emma saw Bucky's metal hand surging for her.

\---

"What the fuck is going on?" Clint asked, and came rushing into his daughter's room, with his partner hot on his heels. They were both in their nice clothes, Natasha wearing a beautiful maroon dress that went to the midst of her calves, and Clint in an ironed blue shirt and nice pants. They'd gotten the hell out of the restaurant as soon as Bucky had called.

Emma was in her bed, shivering underneath three blankets, and with Bruce next to her bed, as well as Bucky lingering by the foot of her bed, looking fascinated.

"It seems Emma's gotten herself sick," Bucky said as Bruce got up, offering his chair. Emma made a miserable sound from the blanket pile.

"Hey, hey," Clint said soothingly, leaning down to kiss Emma's forehead. "You're okay. We're here now, okay?" She nodded a little, looking up at him with fever bright eyes. Shit.

"She collapsed in the living room, I called for Banner," Bucky said, his mouth a tight line and his knuckles clenched white. Natasha brushed a hand over his bicep to calm him.

"You did good, James," she told him seriously, and he nodded, crossing his arms instead.

"How can Emma be sick?" Clint asked Bruce as he took his place, watched Natasha sink onto the mattress by Emma's side. Bruce gave a helpless shrug.

"From what I've gathered, it seems that Emma only heals speedily when she needs to. When she's unsafe and there's threats. It's an unstable power and, as it turns out, not very reliable, and I'm going to run some more tests, but I'll need to draw blood."

"Don't like needles," Emma grumbled from her nest of blankets. Clint swept a red lock out of her face, felt her forehead, and smiled a little at the happy noise Emma made at his cold hands. Her skin was hot under his palm. 

"We have to know what's going on, sweetie," he replied softly, and she squinted suspiciously at him. 

"Bucky?" she rasped out.

"What about him? Wanna hold his hand when Bruce takes the samples?" Emma nodded.

Bucky let her do just that, and it pained them all to watch Emma clench her eyes shut, tight, and set her jaw stubbornly. Bucky had to leave to beat the shit out of some punching bags after that, and Bruce took off with the samples, leaving Natasha and Clint to take care of their, apparently very sick, child.

"Where does it hurt the most?" Clint asked her, and Emma slowly brought her both hands up, using both her pointer fingers to make the ASL sign for "headache". Clint felt a wave of pride at her remembering that. She was smarter than they gave her credit for. "Alright. Where else?" She made the same motion around her throat. "I'll go grab some cough syrup and an advil. You just sit tight."

Emma blearily nodded, and Natasha got that look on her face that either meant blood was going to be shed, or that she was currently being very overprotective. She got that way when someone was seriously injured, she'd nearly sliced a reporters throat to save Tony's ass with that same look on her face and she'd probably do it again.

Clint ran off into the bathroom, grabbing a thermometer as well, and got her a tall glass of water. When he returned, he entered the room to hear Natasha humming quietly. 

It was that lullaby she told him she recalled someone singing to her as a child, and the fact that she was singing it now was making Clint's heart ache. He loved this woman too much for words.

"Here you go sweetie," Clint murmured, coaxing the advil and the cough syrup into Emma's system, and about half of the water. Then he took her temperature.

Natasha cursed in Russian next to him.

"103. She's burning up," Natasha murmured and scraped a blanket off Emma's shoulders, making her moan in protest. 

"That's basically hospital high," Clint said, biting his lip. 

"We can't take her to the hospital."

"Because of the press and her apparently magical blood?"

"Obviously."

"Alright. We'll wait it out. Where the hell did her healing powers go anyways?"

"Bruce said they only stir when she's in danger. Does this look very dangerous to you?" Natasha asked. Emma curled in on herself more, shivering.

"Yeah, it really does. 103, Nat," Clint exhaled.

"'M fine," Emma mumbled from her pile. "Just sleepy."

"Go to sleep then, возлюбленный. We'll watch over you," Natasha murmured, tucking Emma's hand back in under the covers.

"Promise?" Emma asked weakly, her eyes wide and glassy. It broke Clint's heart hearing her like this, and it didn't seem to be doing Natasha any better, because she paused for a second.

"I promise," she said firmly, and Emma nodded, closing her eyes and promptly falling asleep.

"I'll take the first watch, you go change into something more comfy, yeah? Feels like we're gonna be here for a while." Natasha nodded and gave Emma's cheek a kiss before she swayed out of the room.

\---

"What's the diagnose, doc?" Clint asked as he sat down on the kitchen bar stool. The others had poured into Clint and Natasha's kitchen area minutes ago, except for Thor who was watching Peter in the common room.

"Chicken pox," Bruce said. 

"Chicken pox," Clint repeated, internally groaning.

"Did you ever have it as children?"

"Yeah," Clint said, rubbing a hand over his face. Natasha nodded, turning the tea on. She was in yoga pants and a t-shirt now, looking beautiful as always with her hair up. She looked a little tense, but with worry for Emma rather than gearing up to fight monsters.

"Did Peter get his shot?" Bruce asked, shooting Tony and Steve a look. The two fathers stared at each other.

"He's supposed to get his first shot to prevent this from happening in three months," Tony said with a heavy sigh.

"As long as he keeps away from Emma, he'll be fine."

"They were playing on the floor when she decked," Bucky pointed out, tapping his real hand on the cool stone surface that was the counter, and Tony groaned. Steve frowned, looking worried already.

"Great. Prepare to deal with a fussy baby for two weeks. We'll be fine, I'm good at running on coffee," he said dismissively. Steve looked even more worried.

"We're gonna have to stock up on calamine lotion and duct tape. The itching phase is gonna drive Emma crazy," Bruce said with a sigh.

"I'm more worried about the fever dreams," Natasha said, and everyone got a pained look on their face. 

"Yeah, sorry you guys are gonna have to deal with that," Tony said quietly.

"At least Emma won't be crying, screaming, and shitting at the same time," Clint said, and thumped Tony on the back in a 'I pity you' gesture to lighten up the mood.

It didn't exactly work wonders, but Tony groaned.

"He's so cute though. And loving. He kissed my face very happily this morning. Hard to _not_ love the kid."

"You make good parents. You're practically the mom and dad of this team anyway," Clint said with a shrug.

"We are?" Steve asked, surprised.

"Obviously. Stark is the spoiling mother and you're the stern father who will loom around the terrified prom date," Bucky drawled. "'S cute."

"Huh. You're right," Bruce said, squinting at the two. "I haven't thought about it that way."

"Do you think Asgardians can catch chicken pox? Because if they can, we should really pull Peter and Thor away from each other," Tony pointed out. 

"On it," Steve said, heading to the elevator after a quick kiss to Tony's lips that made the genius blush a little. Natasha squinted at him, and saw Bucky's eyes narrow respectively. Bruce, apparently sensing the upcoming interrogation, smiled at them.

"We'll leave you to tend to your sick child," he said, grabbing a distracted Tony and shooing him towards the elevator too. "Don't give her any prescription pain killers, okay? That can cause complications. Try to keep her fever down."

"You got it, doc," Clint called.

"I'll go run down to the store," Natasha mumbled, giving Clint's cheek a kiss, and he grinned at her, hauling her into a proper kiss.

"Right. Buy lots of ice cream."

"For you or Emma?"

"Both." She smirked and winked at him before she walked over to the elevator, followed by Bucky. "Alright, cool, I'll just go sit by our daughter's sickbed."

\---

Clint caught up on some work by Emma's desk, marveling at how clean her room actually was compared to his. She had clothes on the floor, but other surfaces that were definitely supposed to be cluttered, like her nightstand, and her desk, and her chair, were neat. 

He was in the midst of artistically describing Natasha jumping off a building onto a guy's neck and snapping it, when he saw Emma shift on the bed out of the corner of his eye. He heard a soft murmuring, sounding more like a groan than anything, and turned to look at her. 

Emma's chest was starting to heave, as if she was panicking, and she was twitching restlessly under the covers.

If he concentrated, he could hear her mumbling words, something that, in that volume, he couldn't make out. 

"Emma?" he said gently, turning away from his paperwork. She twitched, but stilled, and not in a good way. Her entire body seemed to lock up, as if she thought he wouldn't see her if she just stopped moving. Like she was scared. "Sweetie?"

This time her whole body jerked, and then she curled in on herself, her voice just loud enough for Clint to make out the sounds of her sobbing. Immediately, he moved closer, not touching but close. He took the seat Bruce had used before and listened. 

"No, no please," Emma whispered, her lower lip trembling as tiny, horrified sobs coming in a steady stream. "I don't want to, please don't make me, please, no..."

Clint hushed her.

"It's okay, Emma, you're safe, we're not gonna make you do anything," he promised, his heart hammering in his chest at the way her eyes scrunched, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"No no no no no NO!" The lightbulb burst as she screamed, and Emma was up and out of bed faster than he'd seen her move in forever, her survival instincts kicking in and apparently kicking her reality perception out the window. 

Before he had even moved, she was out in the hallway, and he shot up after her, calling her name. 

Clint heard a Russian curse and came out of Emma's room to find Bucky pinned on the floor by Emma, on his back. Emma's knees were pinning his arms down and she was pinning his legs to the floor with her hands, her breathing ragged, panicked. 

"I'm gonna need you to let go of my legs, doll," Bucky said, his voice calm and slow. There was a slight hitch in Emma's breathing.

"Bucky?" came the weak reply.

"Let go of my arms first," he said, still with that calm, slow voice. Emma slid off his arms, and her hands let go of his legs, and Bucky curled around her, wrapping her up as she weeped. Clint was left to stare, gobsmacked, as Bucky slowly stood up, gently murmuring things as he approached Clint, Emma still in his arms.

He was just about to hand her over when Emma suddenly went catatonic, clinging to Bucky like he was keeping her from being swept into a tornado somehow.

"It's your dad, doll. Just Clint," Bucky said, and nudged Emma's head up. Her bleary eyes focused on him.

"Clint?" she said weakly, and he held his arms out as she nearly jumped from Bucky's arms into his, latched onto him like a horrified child. Which, well. She _was_. 

"You're okay now, sweetie," Clint said, gently, hugging her warm little body tighter to his torso. He wanted to singlehandedly murder anyone that had ever made Emma this horrified to let go, but judging from the look on Bucky's face, he wouldn't get to do it very singlehandedly.

Emma seemed to believe him, because she leaned her fever warm cheek against his and whispered

"Thank you."

That hit him like a punch in the gut, but he nodded, and he walked back into her room, Bucky following him like a shadow. Just when he was about to let her back down onto her own mattress, she decided to cling even harder to him, making a pitiful noise.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me," she said, her chest starting to heave with the panic again.

"Okay, okay, I'm not leaving you," Clint replied quickly, stroking her hair as her grip loosened a bit once again. Shit. "I have an idea. We're gonna make a nest."

Bucky snorted.

"It's gonna be the best damn sick nest ever," Clint said, freeing a hand to flip Bucky off. "I'm gonna have to give you back to Bucky though, so I can make it. Think you can hold onto him while I do that?"

Emma nodded carefully, and let herself be handled back into Bucky's arms. They went into the kitchen to grab some juice, and cool Emma down a little, while Clint made his nest on the living room floor.

With Bucky's help, Emma got settled into the nest, curling herself into a ball under her sheets and falling asleep. Clint stayed there until dinner, when Natasha came up with three bowls of chicken soup.

They managed to wake Emma and make her eat some of the soup as they watched some cartoon quietly.

"Shit," Emma mumbled.

"What's the matter?" Natasha asked from Emma's left side.

"Damian," she managed to get out.

"What about him?"

"School."

"Oh, was today the day he was coming back? I'm sorry you missed him, honey. We called the school to tell them you were sick, so your friends probably know anyways," Clint said, slurping the last from his bowl. Emma nodded slowly, her eyelids already drooping. 

Natasha got the bowl out of Emma's hands before her hands went slack around it, and she fell asleep again. 

The night was tough, with Emma's fever rising and dropping, and her having severe nightmares. Bucky came up to them at around twelve because apparently Jarvis had told him that Emma was having a very restless night, which gave Natasha and Clint some time to sleep. They slept in two hour intervals, until Emma woke up and her fever had gone down to 101. 

"Yay, I'm out of hospital mode," Emma said, her eyes a lot clearer and her mind as well. "And I'm not trying to fry my brains anymore! Just swell. Someone hand me my phone."

"No," Clint said firmly. "You're not trying to fry your own brains anymore, but you're still not healthy. You gotta rest, kiddo. Buckle down in the nest."

"That may be the weirdest thing anyone's ever said to me," she laughed, coughing a little as she did. 

"Want some ice cream? Tasha bought the kind you like." Emma made grabby hands, and Clint laughed as he got up, kissing Emma's hair. He returned with two tubs and three spoons, handing Emma the mint chocolate chip, and sat down next to Natasha, handing over her spoon. 

The next night was calmer, calm enough that Natasha got a full seven hours of sleep along with Clint. It was then that the spots appeared.

Clint had battled aliens, space goop, monsters, all of it, but in the face of Emma with an itch, it didn't seem all that bad. Yeah, mass destruction, but an itchy acrobat who could slither around like a slippery eel... Not good.

"Stop itching," Clint chided as he cut her nails.

"It's so itchy," Emma whined, rubbing her spotty thigh against the carpet. Natasha was duct taping a pair of socks onto her left hand, and pinning one of her legs to the ground distantly.

"It won't scar as bad if you don't itch. I've got the calamine lotion right here," he said, dotting some on her thighs. Emma whined louder as Natasha moved on to her feet. They both knew how bendy Emma was, considering she kept her acrobatic training regime up, and she wouldn't be afraid to use it to itch.

"You know, TJ's little brothers got chicken pox a while back," she said thoughtfully. "I bet TJ transferred it to me. What an asshole. I'm gonna call him out on it as soon as you give me my phone back!"

"You can't text without thumbs," Clint reminded her, tugging on two socks on her other hand, getting a disgruntled noise from his daughter.

"Can I at least call Damian?"

"You really like him, then?" Natasha said, raising an eyebrow as she took the duct tape from Clint to tape her other foot. Emma shrugged.

"He's funny. I like his brothers and his butler. And how he gets super absorbed in shit. Like, I'm sure he's finished watching Supernatural without me now. I really wanted to see his face during the season five finale."

"I'm sure he wouldn't do that," Clint said soothingly, starting to rub the calamine lotion onto Emma's back. Miraculously, she only had five spots on her face. Instead, her back and her thighs were covered already, and from the way she was shifting, it seemed like her stomach was up next for the spot invasion.

"Can I video call him?" she asked, using her shoulder to scratch the spots on her face. Natasha dabbed them with lotion.

"Alright," Clint said with a shrug, handing her the tablet. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Very funny," she said, waving her be-socked hands around, and Clint grinned, tapping his way onto her tablet and pressing the right app, before he settled it in her lap. "Thank you."

"Just tell Jarvis to tell us if you need anything, okay?" Clint said, and got dragged to his feet by Natasha.

"Will do," Emma said with a grin. They heard her happy squeal just before the doors to the elevator closed.

\---

Before it could get better, it just had to get worse. Natasha knew that, but this... This was really really bad.

Emma cried silent tears as Bruce looked in her mouth, seeing the spots. He grimaced.

"Ow," he mumbled, and she made a miserable sound that made Natasha's hands twitch. 

"Are those spots _in her mouth_?" Bucky said, a mix of fascinated and confused and disgusted. Emma shot him a dirty look.

" **Not helping** ," Natasha murmured under her breath, switching to Russian.

" **It's strange. Does it really hurt that bad?** "

" **Would she be crying otherwise?** "

" **Right.** " Emma shot him another dirty look, and he smiled innocently at her, making her narrow her eyes even more. She pointed to the note pad on her desk, and Bruce handed it to her, as well as a pen. She scribbled furiously, and then held it up.

_You're a meanie that's going to get me that raspberry chocolate ice cream I like from that store across town_

Bucky chuckled.

"What ever you say, doll, what ever you say."

It took another few days, and tons of cooling baths and many socks ripped to pieces, but then Emma's spots scabbed over and finally, finally, stopped itching. Everyone was exhausted. To celebrate the fact that Emma was still alive and healthy, they had a family movie night with take out.

Miraculously, Emma had only gotten six spots on her face, and she'd managed to only scratch one of them, so if she was patient enough, she wouldn't scar at all. Clint had made Natasha high-five him for a parenting well done. 

"We've ruined half of her socks and ruined three pairs of her sheets. I don't see how that's 'parenting well done'," Natasha remarked as Clint shoved a slice of cheese-dripping pizza into his mouth.

"At least we didn't break anything. Or anyone. I call that a win in the parenting game." She rolled her eyes fondly.

"There's less than two weeks left of school. What're your grades like?" Tony asked.

"I dunno. I don't keep track. Hope helped me with the homework though, and she's told me a lot about what they've been doing, so I think I'll be able to make up for the past two weeks good enough to get my grades," Emma replied, slurping up her noodles.

"Good. Stay in school, kid," Tony said, adjusting a fussy Peter in his lap. The little boy had gotten his dash of the chicken pox a week and a half after Emma, but due to his, more reliable, healing factor, he didn't suffer too high of a fever, but he did have a rash. He'd taken two cooling baths just today and it still didn't seem to be enough to calm him. He was much better than Emma had been at that point, though, so they all expected him to be better in less than a week.

"I was planning on it," she said with a little smile. 

"What do you wanna be when you grow up? If you get to choose anything," Steve asked. Emma hummed.

"Probably what Jane is. I like stars." 

"Astrophysicist," Natasha alerted her.

"Yeah, that. It seems cool. Darcy showed me some of the notes, and you have to be good at math and stuff, so I'm gonna study really hard so I can be what Jane is."

"Thank god your answer wasn't superhero, I don't think I'd be able to handle that," Clint said. Emma sat up a little straighter, looking at him with bright eyes. "No! No superhero-ing for you! You are not becoming a superhero. Over my dead body."

"I'll have to agree with Clint here," Tony said. "I nearly faint every time Peter climbs the walls. I can't imagine what I would do if he was swinging around New York instead of his room."

"But what if I wanna be a superhero?" Emma asked, leaning on Bruce's shoulder. "I bet you could set me up with cool armor and stuff, and I could get repulsors! And-and I could sparr with all you guys and learn how to do all the things!"

"You suck at knife-throwing though," Tony pointed out.

"Well, I wasn't gonna be like, Knife Woman."

"What were you thinking then?" Natasha asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I dunno. Maybe... Banshee? That's a sick name."

"There's sadly enough already a mutant named Banshee. Pick again," Tony said, grabbing an unused chop stick and twirling it around his fingers.

"Well then I don't know."

"Good, because you're not becoming a superhero," Clint said firmly.

"You just want me to be normal?" Emma asked, head tilted a little to the side.

"We want you to have the option," Natasha explained calmly. "I'm not on board with you becoming a superhero either, but if you still want to be one when you're much older, we'll talk about it then." 

"You're so good at dodging important questions, you could be a politician," Bucky said from his love seat. Natasha called him something very unfriendly in Russian, and Bucky winked at her with a light smile.

"Heard anything from Darcy?" Emma asked him. He shrugged a little.

"Her ma is apparently a loving person, and doesn't want them to leave, but I think she's up to something," he replied, snatching the last slice of pizza from Clint.

"Like what?"

"No clue. I hope it's not trouble."

\---


	54. Messes And Actual Galas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPERLONG CHAPTER jesus christ what even happened here, nothing at all. Just general fluff. There will be another chapter up before Christmas! Promise!  
> You will get your Avengers Christmas.  
> Enjoy! <3

 

Of course, it was trouble. 

The next day, during breakfast, when everyone was seated by the kitchen table, Bucky came strolling in with a tablet, placing it on the table and tilting the screen to show everybody who it was.

"Darcy!" Emma squealed.

"Hey sugarbabe! How's the itching?" Darcy asked with a smile. 

"It's gone, thankfully," Natasha replied. "What's the matter?" 

"So, we just got back to our place in New Mexico," Darcy said, and Bucky's eye twitched. "Tell James to stop worrying and stop doing the twitching thing." His eyes narrowed. "Anyway, we're here, and the place is as tossed as a salad. Like, movie style tossed. They shattered Jane's vase. She's pretty upset about it."

"It was an ugly vase anyways," came Jane's vague voice from somewhere further away in the room, and Darcy laughed.

"Right. Anyways, I called Ian's mom, and he hasn't been home since we sent him home, which is, you know, really concerning. So if you guys could come over and do your thing, that'd be great."

"I'd rather not leave Emma," Natasha said.

"Yeah, me neither. We can probably send Bucky though, for the spy skills," Clint suggested.

"I'll go either way," Steve said, and Tony shot him a worried look.

"Why? Who says you should go? Bruce could go, Thor could go, Thor knows his way around New Mexico," Tony rambled off quickly.

"I would rather not go, actually," Bruce said with a helpless shrug. "I don't think huge, green, out of control monsters will help hunt down a couple of assassins."

"Whose side are you on Bruce!?" He shrugged helplessly again.

"Thor is huge and well known and attracts attention," Bucky pointed out.

"And Steve isn't huge and attracting attention?" Tony said with blatantly raised eyebrows.

"Not as much. Natasha would have been the prime choice, seeing as nobody expects the small woman to be so deadly, but she has good reasons to stay."

"What about me?" Tony challenged.

"No," Steve said firmly.

"What, you get to throw yourself into dangerous situations and I don't?"

"You're too famous," Bucky said.

"Now _there_ 's a new accusation."

"Plus, without the suit, you can't even pack a punch, you're too loud for undercover ops, and I don't think I'd be able to go through more than a few hours locked up with you without punching your lights out."

"With which arm?"

"Left one."

"Ouch. You sure know how to hurt a guy's feelings. And bones."

"I sure do," Bucky said, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. "Remember that." There was a stunned silence on Tony's part.

"Did Bucky just give me the shovel talk? I'm pretty sure he did. Amazing. I can't wait for Emma to have her first boyfriend. That poor boy will be horrified. Imagine getting the shovel talk from the Avengers. I don't even think the assassins are going to be most horrifying."

"Oh, don't be so sure about that," Clint said with a smirk.

"Could you guys, like, not ever do that?" Emma said. "I know you all love me and stuff, but I really don't want you to scare guys away from me even more? I already have the whole circus freak-slash-superhero daughter-slash-superpowered thing going on, and I'd rather you guys don't... Do that. Okay? Please?"

"Not promising anything," Tony said. Darcy rolled her eyes on the screen.

"Can't just Bucky come if Tony is going to be all mother hen about it?" she asked.

"I'm not being a mother hen, I'm worried about my other half, shut up," Tony said petulantly, and Steve smiled, grabbing Tony's hand and pulling him into his arms.

"We'll be careful, I promise. We'll rough up some bad guys, make sure everything is fine with Ian, and come right back home before Christmas," he said gently. Tony narrowed his eyes at him.

"Don't you dare leave me alone and widowed," Tony said, and Steve gave Tony's nose a gentle kiss.

"I would never."

"I'm not kidding, Steve."

"Neither am I."

"Great! Get some plane tickets and hop on over, because they overturned the couch and Jane is going to break an arm trying to turn it back again, and, well, you two moving furniture would be lovely eye candy," Darcy said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Aren't you sweet," Bucky drawled, and Darcy laughed.

"I know. Now drag your asses over here, please? It's kinda freaky in here," she said, some real concern slipping into her voice. Bucky nodded, one sharp nod of his head, and spun on his heel to pack.

\---

Two hours later, Bucky and Steve were on a quinjet on their way to New Mexico, and Tony was pouting with Peter, sitting in the kitchen with Bruce, feeding the kid.

Emma still wasn't 100% healthy, so Clint bundled her up in a blanket, and gave her some hot chocolate, as well as treaded some horrible Christmas socks on her feet.

He plopped down next to her.

"Wanna watch the Grinch?" he asked.

"M'kay," Emma said, waiting until he'd set up the movie to snuggle into his side. They watched in silence for a while, Emma's phone vibrating once in a while.

"Aren't you gonna answer that?" Clint asked. Emma hummed.

"No. It's Damian."

"Trouble in paradise?" She snorted.

"He pissed me off earlier. I'm still ignoring him."

"Ah, youth," Clint sighed. "What's his family doing for Christmas?"

"Dunno. Presents and family dinner on Christmas Eve and whatnot," she said with a shrug. "His family isn't really a holiday spirit kind of family."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Presents on Christmas Eve? What kinda bullshit is that? You open the presents the 25th, in your pj's, in the morning. That's the true American Christmas."

"Damian told me they open their presents the 24th. I thought everybody did?" she said, glancing up at him. Clint stared at her, dumbfounded.

"Please tell me you've celebrated Christmas, or Tony is gonna blow it even more out of proportion than usual," he said with a groan. Emma gave him a ghost of a smile, curling up further under the blankets.

"Yeah, I have. In the circus. When I first got there, they didn't like me very much, and they stole most of my shit, like my necklace." Her fingers curled angrily around the charm around her neck. "Then they warmed up to me a little bit, cutting me some more slack as I worked with the acrobats and stuff. My first Christmas with the circus, someone got stabbed, and the cops showed up before we could skedaddle, so that didn't go very well. Second year though, when Charlie had taken me in under his wing, it was better. I stole a santa hat from the clowns, and I'd snagged some pine from the woods, and we sat in our wagon and sang the Christmas songs we knew and drank hot chocolate. He gave me the necklace back, he'd stolen it back from the others."

She gave him a wistful smile, her eyes a thousand miles away.

"Barney used to do that with me too," Clint said quietly. "He'd steal some junk that he thought looked nice from a shop and give it to me to remind me that Christmas was a thing. We drank eggnog though."

"I don't like alcohol," Emma said, scrunching her nose up with distaste. "Tastes bad."

"Well good, you're not having any of that until you're 21."

"That's the legal age? Really?" Emma scoffed. "It's not that high in Russia."

"You're American, sweetie. And the Russians are crazy," Clint said with a mock tsk and a shake of the head. Emma grinned.

"Don't let Natasha hear you," she sing-songed.

"Meh, she knows that."

"Or Bucky."

"God, does he know it."

"Maybe I should start my present planning," she mumbled, picking up her phone as it vibrated. Her eyebrows quirked.

_Barton_

_Barton_

_Answer me, godammit_

_Father is forcing me to go to a gala in four days, and since you so wished to go to one so dearly, accompany me_

_As a further apology, I shall even throw in five of Pennyworth's cookies that you find so amazing_

Emma snorted.

"What?" Clint asked.

"I'm shooting fish in a barrel here," she said with a grin. "Better soothe his ruffled feathers before he barrels the door down demanding for me to accept his apology."

"What's he offering? Should you really accept his apology?" Clint asked.

"Oh, totally. He wants to take me to a gala and give me cookies. I really don't see a scenario in which I lose on this deal," Emma said with a giggle, typing furiously.

_make it six and you have a deal_

_Fine._

"A _gala_? Fancy boy much?" Clint said with raised eyebrows.

"No no, we've talked this through before. He thinks they're super boring, and I've never been to one, and you can't bring me to one, because I'll get discovered and the school will suffer and everybody will generally suffer, but if I go with Damian, nobody will know who I am, and I'll just be his date, and also get to go to a gala and throw peanuts at him to stop him from being bored. Everybody wins."

"I don't know if I want you at a gala with him," Clint said, biting his lip in thought.

"Whaaaat? But it's a gift! Apology gift. And I really really really wanna go," she said, turning her huge green, blue, grey shifting eyes at him, big and innocent. Internally, Clint groaned. He wasn't going to be able to withstand that stare.

"Go ask your mother," Clint said instead of giving a direct answer, and Emma pouted as she put her mug of chocolate back down on the side table, giving Clint's cheek a kiss before she dragged the blanket tighter around her shoulders and trotted off, yelling out 'Moooom' as she went.

Emma found Natasha in the training room, stretching.

"Mooom, can I go to a gala with Damian? Clint said to ask you," she said.

"What gala?" Natasha asked, letting her foot drop from it's perch above her head.

"Dunno, buuuut... I'll be going with Damian and his dad, and probably his brothers too. I'll be safe," she nodded.

"Why do you want to go?" Natasha asked, putting one hand on her hip. Emma shrugged, the blanket floating over the ground for a mere second.

"I wanna dress up and talk fancy and waltz around a huge, gaudy room. Damian told me he's always bored at galas, and I offered my company, and he pissed me off so he, as an apology, offered to take me to a gala in four days."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Emma parroted.

"Sure. Thor can fix your hair and Pepper can put make up on you. We could get you a designer dress, you'd get to help choose of course, and shoes too. If you want to be primped up, we'll primp you up nicely," Natasha said calmly. Emma squealed and attacked her in a hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed, and Natasha wrapped her arms around the limbs hiding under the blanket, smiling into Emma's red hair.

"Anything for you, возлюбленный."

\---

After some arguing with Clint, and Tony for some reason, Emma was picking out a dress and shoes with Pepper happily by her side. They were arguing about colors and styles, and Natasha gave her tips and advice, and then she decided that she could be of no more help. She made herself a cup of tea and then another one for Bruce, and walked into the living room to give it to him.

Tony was sitting on the couch, Peter on the floor in front of him, and was watching his son like a hawk.

"I just feel like we could make it more efficient if we added a higher energy flux," Bruce argued.

"Then you're feeling wrong," Tony told him seriously, and took a sip of his coffee.

"You get more stubborn when Steve isn't around," Bruce remarked, and Tony shook his head.

"Not even that, you're just making a wrong theory. And you just concocted another wrong theory. Steve doesn't make me less stubborn, he's just as stubborn and when you compare me and him then, we're drastically alike, but when he's not here, there's an unbalance in the flow of the tower, hence causing me to look more stubborn than when he's here."

"Your Tony-logic never ceases to amaze."

Tony hummed thoughtfully and groped through thin air around his collarbones, and had a moment of pure panic, until he came to a sour conclusion. Natasha watched from the sidelines, determining that there was something he felt was missing but not lost.

"I didn't think you were the kind of guy to wear necklaces," she said as she slid down next to him on the couch. He gave her a look, and Bruce stood up, leaving the room quickly. He knew better than to get in the way of her friendly investigations.

"I'm not." Natasha gave him her 'bullshit' look, and he smiled, looking over at Peter on the floor, mesmerized by the bright colors and shapes and noises from the tv. "Alright, you caught me. I look hot in necklaces. Especially chokers. Get's Steve all hot and heavy."

"That's not what you were looking for," Natasha said, raising one eyebrow briefly. Tony's hand subconsciously reached for the necklace that was supposed to be there, and he made it look like he'd just been scratching his chest when she gave his hand a pointed look. He huffed and hugged an arm over his arc reactor, turning his gaze back to Peter.

"You're so creepy. Fine. I like to wear Steve's dogtags. He lets me." It clicked.

"But he's out on a mission with Bucky," Natasha filled in, seeing Tony's other hand curl protectively around himself too. "So he has them now."

"Yeah," Tony replied, his voice quiet. "Sometimes I, uh... I wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares and Steve doesn't sleep regularly, the weirdo, so when he's not there they're a kind of... A comfort." His jaw clenched a little, and was probably at the point where anybody with a bit of sense would stop pushing.

Natasha had been taught to push and push and push until they fell over the edge of sanity. Her conscience kicked in though, and she nodded and turned her look away. She felt the need to make herself as uncomfortable as Tony was, and tell him something personal. Natasha cleared her throat.

"Clint's shirts. Those help me."

"Oh, god, yeah, I love wearing Steve's shirts. They smell really good. Sandalwood and..." Tony ruffled his dark, unusually chaotic, mop of hair and pulled a face. She understood.

"Home," she said quietly. Tony smiled warmly and nodded.

"Yeah. Home." They sat in silence, and Natasha rolled her shoulders a little to make herself feel more comfortable. Natasha Romanoff was hard to unsettle, but this, _sharing_ , it still made her feel uncomfortable unless it was all lies. This wasn't.

"So... Do ya love him?" Tony asked suddenly. Natasha tensed but quickly recovered, and scoffed.

"Love is for children. What I have with him is..." _Everything that love is and more._ She took a breath to gather her thoughts. Jarvis was hearing this, recording it. But it was Tony's AI. Tony, the one who kept his secrets more guarded than SHIELD could. He was family. "Deeper than that. Scarier. Better." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Man. I wish you would've confessed that to him earlier so that I would've won the bet." Natasha stared at him for longer than necessary, and his both eyebrows shot up in shock. "You haven't told him? You've been waltzing around each other since, like, forever!"

"No," she said with conviction.

"Yeah! Duh! Why do you think we made the bet? We've had like, six bets since we got to know you guys. You're fucked up, but you two, you make it look good. Now that's rare. I can't make fucked up look good."

"I bet Steve disagrees." Tony rolled his eyes with a fond smile.

"Like I said. Weirdo." There was no malice behind his words, only love and tender thoughts. Natasha wondered if she'd ever sounded like that whilst saying Clint's name.

Yeah. She probably had. Internally, she cursed herself and her weakness for the archer.

"Hey." Tony said it gently, and efficiently brought her out of her tornado of thoughts. "You can love him. It's not a weakness."

"Except it is," Natasha argued.

"But isn't it worth it?" She gave him a blank glance. "I mean... Steve doesn't have actual _armor_ , for gods sake. He goes out fighting the bad guys in spandex and with a shield. That's it. He doesn't want to use guns, he prefers his fists. God, do you know how often that's kept me up? It's a weakness, I know that, he's a weakness, a huge spot my armor can't cover, but it's worth it. He gives me so much damn love I could replace oceans with it, and I know that if he goes down before me, the pain will be... It will destroy me. But it's so worth it. Steve is worth it."

Was Clint worth it?

That was a stupid question. In the beginning of their partnership, she'd given herself peace by not getting herself attached to him. Getting out from her Red Room programming had taken time, it had taken Clint a long, long time to get her to trust him and Shield and it's intentions, but Clint had been so patient. After their first few try-out missions for Shield, Natasha had found herself getting attached to the silly archer with a heart too big for his chest and that goofy grin she now loved to see on his face.

But was she worth it?

Clint had endured so much loss in his life. People he loved, betraying him, leaving him, dying. Natasha wasn't sure how much more his heart could take. Maybe he decided that one day, Natasha wasn't worth all the pain, and distanced himself. Or maybe that was something she'd do. Natasha liked to know what she was doing, having a loose plan always made things less complicated.

But this, this was the future. This was something she couldn't plan the same way as an attack. This was almost completely out of her control. Emma kept telling them that they were all or nothing, and she was right. But nothing was lonely and all was scary, and giving her all to Clint was...

Not very unreasonable. They had endured each others hardships for a decade, and now they had a child together, a wonderful girl that would most probably hurt more if they broke away from each other now, rather than became closer.  
Natasha nodded carefully, and Tony smirked a little.

"I'm kinda impressed that you didn't punch me for talking about the feelings," he joked, and Natasha smiled.

"I'm not that impulsive. I know when to strike instead," she said and gave his cheek a light kiss. Tony had a mildly scared look on his face, and even though Natasha was far from the blood stained woman she used to be, she liked that she could still scare people's pants off.

\---

The day of the gala arrived, and Emma was on the phone with Damian for almost an hour during the preparations. Thor braided her hair intricately, an Asgardian braid worthy of a princess according to him, and Pepper helped her slide into the dress, and Natasha helped put make up on her.

Pictures had been sent to Darcy and Jane for inspection, and Bucky had said, and apparently Darcy quoted, "Em looks like a million bucks".

Emma apparently didn't know who the hell Santa was, and even after explanations, she didn't believe them, so Natasha could freely say, with a wink Clint's way, that maybe they'd go out shopping while Emma was gone.

Emma shrugged.

"I don't really want anything for Christmas," she said sheepishly. "I've got you guys, and that's enough for me."

"True American Christmas, Em," Clint reminded her, and she laughed.

"Yeah yeah, uuuh. I want world peace, anything bad ending in 'ism' to end, a Star Wars bedspread, and an alarm clock," she ratted off on her manicured fingernails, clean and short.

Clint laughed.

"We'll see what we can do," he promised, and Emma grinned. Her tiny clutch vibrated, and she opened it with haste, scanning the screen.

"They're here," she said.

"Alright, you have fun now, yeah?" Clint said, kissing her forehead.

"I will," Emma said, getting a hug from Tony and a pat from Bruce. Natasha hugged her, and then Pepper shooed her into the elevator.

"Excited?" Pepper asked as she plucked hair off the already impeccable dress.

"Yeah," Emma nodded.

"Nervous?"

"A little. Damian will be there though. He knows what to do, he'll tell me."

"I have a little tip for you," Pepper said, crouching down a little in her heels to tilt Emma's head up. "Don't be a wallflower. You're smart, and funny, and all the people there are going to be stuffy and old and probably mean. Deal with that by making sneaky insults. You know Tony and Clint, so you've learned from some of the best, but the best insults I know at these kinds of galas is 'so last season' and 'young money, obviously'. Stick to those and you'll do just fine."

The doors slid open, and Emma was herded out to the sidewalk, where a black limo was standing. It had a ornate W painted on, a sign Emma highly associated with Wayne Manor and Damian. Alfred stepped out of the drivers side, coming around to open the door for her.

"Bye Pep!" Emma called as she skipped over to the car.

"Have fun!" came Pepper's reply.

"Good evening, miss," Alfred greeted her.

"Good evening, Alfred," she said with a beaming smile.

Emma slid into the limo, where all the boys were lounging. Bruce was sitting straight, his back ramrod straight, and next to him, Tim was sitting, his shoulders outlined nicely by his suit jacket as he typed on his phone, his eyebrows a little furrowed. Next to him, Jason was slouched, looking smoking hot and worrying his bottom lip as he tapped a rhythm onto the back of his seat. Dick was spread out over two seats, looking relaxed and happy as he talked to Jason about something stupid, probably trying to calm the other's nerves.

And then there was Damian.

Damian was looking generally pissed off, as per usual, but Emma could never remember seeing Damian like _this_. His hair was it's usual spiky menace, but now it looked more purposeful, like it had been styled that way, and Damian had a dark green button up underneath a sharp-looking suit jacket.

Emma had to stop herself from gasping. Christ on a cracker, why, oh _why_ , did Bruce only adopt hot guys? It felt unnecessary to cram all that sizzling into one limo.

"Hi guys!" Emma said cheerfully, because she liked Damian's family, and most of them seemed to like her.

"Hi Emma! How's the itching?" Dick asked as he waved at Pepper in the doorway, who gave him a sweet smile with a death-threat hidden behind it. Emma waved happily too before the doors closed.

"Oh, it's all gone now, it was really shitty when it was here though. Miss me?"

"Obviously. Damian's been such a pain," Tim said.

"He's always a pain," Jason said with a smirk, and he probably would have received a haughty smirk or a snappy remark, had Damian's eyes not been locked on Emma. She smiled at him as the limo rolled away from the curb.

"Hi Dami," she said. "Don't I clean up nice? Pepper made me wear make up. It feels like I have flour all over my face. My eyelashes feel super heavy, and there's glitter everywhere. I would have loved it if it was anywhere but on me, really. I do love the dress though, it's designer apparently, which makes me wanna spill something on it just to see the designer's eye twitch. That's really mean of me though, so I had to promise Pep not to." Damian hadn't said a word, he was just looking at her with a blank face. Staring. "Um. What's the matter?" she asked, and poked his cheek.

Tim cleared his throat, and Damian seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking about so intently. He turned his head away.

"Your hair is nice," he said, and she grinned.

"Shit, it took Thor so long to fix it. Did you know I have a hard time sitting in the same spot for long? Apparently-"

"I'm very aware, thank you very much."

"-I can't stop moving and that's why it took him so long. Then Tony got really protective along with Clint and they were super annoying because, let's face it, I look like a million bucks, and-"

"Breathe," Damian reminded her and gave her a glance out of the corner of his eye. She laughed.

"I once knew this girl that could hold her breath for like ninety seconds straight. She'd dive into a pool and pretend to drown and lay there for like a minute then she'd snap her eyes open and make a beeline for the surface. She was really cool."

"She sounds scary."

"I've got plenty scary friends," Emma told him and he met her eyes again.

"You certainly do."

Jason watched with mixed horror and fascination as Emma teased Damian and booped him on the nose with little to no fist fights or scorching remarks all the way to the event. It was really weird seeing Damian not being purposely hurtful for once.

Emma laughed as she swatted Damian's hand away from a bowl of peanuts and stole it for herself. He tried again and she swatted his hand away. He scowled at her, and she squinted at him, a smile playing at her lips.

"Open your mouth."

"Why would I do that?"

"Come on! Dami, please?" Emma said, and Damian rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth wide. Emma grabbed a peanut and theatrically aimed for his mouth. She threw it, and he caught it in his mouth, crushing the peanut with a glare that she smiled at. "See? Not that bad."

They repeated their party trick a few times before the limo rolled around to the front of the huge place where the gala would be taking place, and Emma stared.

"That is intimidating as hell," she said, watching the looming, black building illuminated by lights. The gothic architecture that they all had gotten used to, seemed to baffle Emma completely.

"Stick to Damian for a while when you get inside," Dick advised, giving Emma's dress a glance. It was a blue green color, down to her knees and her legs were bare, as were her shoulders. The clasp around her neck was golden, and held the back of the dress up as well, keeping it all linked together beautifully with intricate patterns. She'd probably be donning Damian's blazer by the end of the night.

"You know the drill by now," Bruce sighed, giving them all a shallow smile that was obviously reserved for whatever Bruce he was being tonight. Emma knew enough about superheroes to see the difference between them in battle and in real life. The Black Widow wouldn't coo over Peter as she drank tea on the floor with her wool socks on, and in her pajama pants that had been a gift from Clint with cartoon moose on them, and her hair in a messy bun. Only Natasha would.

Alfred opened the door, and immediately, there were flashes, and people yelling questions and "Mr. Wayne!" as Bruce stepped out of the car, that same shallow smile on his lips. Dick followed, another blinding grin, and Damian stepped out, holding a hand out to her to help her out of the car. If this had been any other occasion, she would've flipped him off and climbed out herself.

Instead, she narrowed her eyes to slits as she was helped out of the car, and he gave her a slight twitch of his lips. The camerapeople gasped and began snapping more pictures as Damian leaned in by her ear as they slowly walked down the red carpet.

"Smile, not big enough to show your teeth, and don't talk. Please," he murmured, and she nodded.

"I'm really fuckin' excited," she whispered back, and Damian snorted.

"You're smiling too wide. Simmer down," he muttered.

"Shut the fuck up, I'll smile if I wanna," she replied just as quiet, but strained to keep her teeth from showing. Finally, they entered the place, with Tim behind them, and Jason coming in from a side door. How they even managed to get him to go was over Emma's head.

The ball room was huge and glittering, and Emma twitched with excitement as they were offered champagne by a waiter. Emma took a glass and Damian didn't.

"You could get poisoned," he pointed out.

"Healing factor," she said breezily, and took a sip. It bubbled in her mouth and in her nose, and she snorted a little as she drank it.

"Your healing factor didn't save you from chicken pox. Why would it save you from poison?"

"True. It tastes good though. What a way to go."

"There are much, much better ways to go."

"We have to stop with the death talks at galas," Emma said with a smirk as he lead her toward a group of people dressed in gowns probably worth as much as Damian's net worth.

"The wives will attack you like piranhas, and ask about dating life and your dress and how you keep yourself fit," he mumbled quietly as they came closer. "The husbands will attack me, asking me about my fathers business and when I'm taking it over. Boring."

"You're too easily bored with this world," Emma remarked as she smiled at one of the women standing in the cluster. She smiled back, her smile all teeth.

"Damian!" one of the men boomed, and Damian put on a smile Emma hadn't seen before and certainly didn't like. It was a smile of prim properness, and it didn't suit him at all. His devious smirk and head thrown back with laughter was her favorite look on him.

"Henry," Damian greeted, that tight smile making him look older, but less grim and angry than usual.

"I'm glad you could make it! Where's your old man?" the same old man said. His hair was gray and his hairline receding. He was wrinkly and his wife was more of a trophy wife than anything, the diamond ring on her finger obscenely large and her features too young for him. Emma was a little creeped out, really. 

"Probably finding women to bring home and making business deals," Damian said, his smile chilly. The man's laugh was booming.

"The rascal. And who's this?" he asked, turning his eyes on Emma. She smiled.

"Emma," she said, and offered her hand in a very lady-like fashion. The man, Henry, took it with a chuckle and kissed it. His grey moustache tickled her bare hand.

"A pleasure to meet you."

"Ditto," she replied.

"Aren't you a little young to be bringing dates?" Henry asked Damian smugly.

"I suppose. But you know women, always nagging, whatever age," he sighed dramatically, and Emma's grip on his arm tightened, even as she smiled her most innocent smile and giggled sheepishly.

"You don't have to tell me," Henry chuckled. "Nagging women, I've had my fair share of those."

"Say, who is your new conquest? Last time we met, her name was Lisa, but that certainly does not look like Lisa," Damian said.

"Ah, Melissa, darling, come here, there's someone I would like you to meet," Henry called behind him. Melissa, the woman with the obscene diamond ring, sashayed her way over to them. Her dress was long and dark blue, and her chest pushed up to a grade that was probably demanded by her husband, and she smiled a tight smile, like she would rather drown herself than talk to two children.

"Yes, darling?" she said.

"This is Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne's son. He'll take over the company when his father steps down," Henry said, speaking a little slower. Melissa latched onto Henry's arm.

"Oh, how lovely. Your dress is pretty," she said, motioning to Emma. "It suits you. Not exactly the color I would've picked, but still, pretty."

"Thanks," Emma said, her hand yet again tightening around Damian's arm.

"We best be going now," Damian said, taking her cue the right way. "Lots of people to greet, little time and whatnot." Henry looked a little disappointed.

"Ah. Well, when you see your father again, do tell him I said hello!" Henry said with a smile and nod.

"Of course," Damian said, and gracefully lead them away.

"Her dress was very last season. Are they the new money kinda people?" Emma asked, loud enough for it to be classified as a whisper but still within hearing range. She could hear Melissa's scandalized little gasp as they strode away. Damian gave her an impressed look.

"New money and last season? Who taught you those?"

"Pepper," Emma grinned mischievously at him, and Damian snorted out a laugh.

"Of course. Pepper is a smart woman."

"She goes to a lotta galas," Emma explained. "Is there a roof in this place? Or a nook where we can hide? I need to calm down before I insult another person's dress choice."

\---

They managed to dodge a lot of other elites, but was still forced to talk to a lot of them. Enough for Emma to grow tired.

"Alright, I get why you hate galas. These people are all trying to get your money or a part in your company. Or just being generally sneakily rude," Emma sighed as she and Damian danced around to the slow music. He had a hand on her hip and she had one on his shoulder and the other two were clasped. They weren't even standing particularly close, but Emma could still feel her cheeks heating and the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric where his hand rested on her hip.

"Yes they are," Damian said triumphantly. "I was right."

"That you were. I still don't think it's horribly boring though. So far, we haven't stepped on each others feet, and it's pretty fun insulting mean people sneakily."

"You are quite good at stealthy jabs."

"Thank you! One of my talents that are rarely acknowledged."

"Because you're too nice to the people you know, Barton," Damian pointed out.

"Right. Well, I'm not gonna stop being nice. I'm good at being nice."

"That you are," Damian mumbled as the song came to an end. They let go of each other and joined the other dancers in clapping, and when the next song started playing, Emma groaned. "Want to sit down?"

"Yes please. I'm so thirsty. Could you go get me a not poisoned drink? That would be swell," she said. He nodded.

"Sit down. I'll find you," he said and disappeared into the crowd. Emma shrugged and slithered her way around the crowd. Someone's diamond necklace was being taken off and placed into their bag. Emma gaped.

It would be easy to sneak it out of the lady's purse, she hadn't even closed it, just placed it, half closed, on the table and left. It... It wouldn't hurt to just look. Would it? No. Obviously not.

Emma crept closer to the table, and just as she was going to grab the bag and _take a peek_ , mind you, a hand clasped her shoulder. She didn't have to look to know who it was.

"Hi. Isn't this a pretty necklace? I haven't seen anything like it. I was just gonna look," she protested as Bruce turned her around and steered her towards an empty table.

"Why did you come tonight?" Bruce asked as he sat Emma down, sliding down into the chair next to her. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"I wanted to look fancy. And Damian said he was always bored at galas. I offered to help ease the boredom. So far, I think it's going great," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"Wouldn't your parents be able to take you to a gala?"

"Maybe my family are working class and don't go to galas for kicks?" she suggested.

"No. We picked you up at the Avengers Tower."

"So? Maybe my mom works there."

"No. You didn't bat an eye when Damian told you about the secret. That means you're used to it, leading me to conclude that your parents are Avengers, and considering Hawkeye and Black Widow have told the world about a girl named 'Emma', I'm going to go ahead and assume that that's you."

"You're making a whole lot of assumptions here."

"It's what I do."

"Creepy."

"You're aware of his past, then, I assume."

"Well, I mean..." She lowered her voice even more. "The assassin parts and stuff. And a little bit about his mom." Bruce stiffened.

"And you're just fine with it?"

"Huh. 'Fine with it' is a stupid way to put it. I think it's shitty that that happened to him. But, you see, I'm kinda a killer too. My parents are Avengers. My family is a group full of superheroes doing their best to save the world. I would've figured it out on my own soon enough. I'm really stubborn and I wouldn't have given up so right now I know enough. I know that he fights crime on a nightly basis with you, and your other kids, which is a nice family business, I guess, and I know that he loves what he does. Which is really stupid, but nobody I actually like, like to stay safe. Worse self-preservation skills than I have, which is seriously saying something."

Bruce didn't nod. He just made an indecisive hum.

"I don't want to hurt Damian," she said slowly. "I don't want him to hurt me either. I'm so small but I've been so incredibly hurt and I don't really handle pain well. So I'm not gonna date him. You can chill out."

"He told you," he said in a monotone. "He fully intends for your friendship to go on."

"Right. Well, that I do too. I wanna be friends with him forever. But I'm not that naive. I know forever isn't real," Emma replied, and clenched her hands into fists in her lap. "I know that, so I don't pursue it. But I wanna be friends with Damian for a really long time, so you're gonna have to deal with me knowing and not saying shit about it."

"Let's say he hurts you. Wouldn't you be tempted to tell the world? Destroy his life?"

"What? No! I take care of things differently. I'd probably have Jarvis turn some of the dummies into Damian look-a-likes, and punch my way through them. I'm more of a hands on kinda gal rather than planning devious schemes. I mean, I've got the brains, the brawn, and the beauty, but I'm too lazy."

Bruce nodded again, and then he gave her a small smile that felt like a milestone in her book.

"Lazy?"

"Obviously. I'm a teenager. My plots are lazy still," she said with a dismissive wave.

Damian weaved through the crowd, and set down a wine glass filled with Mountain Dew in front of her, before sitting down himself, barely giving his father a glance.

"Sweet! Thanks Dami. How did you even get this? Isn't this a fancy party?" she asked.

"It is," he agreed. "Being the child of a billionaire and being known for getting my way has its perks." Emma snorted and shoved him playfully.

"You need to stop getting your way."

"But my way is constantly the best way."

"I'm not proving you right, but this is some delicious Mountain Dew," she said as she sipped, and Damian gave her a small smile as she gazed out over the crowd. "What time is it even? It feels like time and space doesn't exist in here."

"It's ten twenty pm," Damian supplied.

"Shit. I'm supposed to be home by ten thirty," Emma groaned, and groped around in her clutch. She whipped her phone out and startled as her phone started vibrating in her hand. She pressed the green button. "Uh, hi?"

"Hey doll," came Bucky's low voice, and Emma lit up.

"Hi! How's New Mexico?"

"Not New York, that's for sure," he sighed. Emma grinned.

"That's kinda the point of being in a state super far away."

"We caught the bad guys, and found Ian," he said.

"Awesome! Where was he?"

"In his summerhouse. He shot me."

"He what?!"

"In the left arm. I'm fine. Stark's going to have to fix some plates though."

"Now, for the really important questions: Is Darcy and Jane coming back for Christmas?"

"We're helping them fix all the stuff in their apartment, and then we'll see. They haven't really decided yet. Darcy has a family she needs to visit, you know, doll."

"Yeah, but we're family too," Emma said petulantly.

"'Course we are. Darcy and Jane still get to decide where they want to go."

"Yeah yeah. Tell them they can come over anyways."

"Will do." He was silent for a while. "Where the hell are you? Aren't you supposed to be home now?"

"I'm at the gala with Damian still," she said. Bucky hummed.

"Did you have to break any of his fingers yet?" Emma laughed.

"No. Not gonna have to."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure. Hurry home."

"We'll try."

"Thanks. Love you, bye."

"Bye Em." Emma hung up with a smile.

"Bucky?" Damian asked, and Emma nodded.

"Yeah," she said and shuddered. Damian sighed.

"You need to start wearing clothes appropriate for the weather," he complained as he wrung his suit jacket over his shoulders and threw it over hers instead. It had the overwhelming scent of Damian all over it, and Emma rolled her eyes but pulled it tighter around herself.

"It's not my fault designers don't know how to design warm dresses," she complained. "Oh my god, I just had a great idea: Armor dresses. Imagine that. That would be so cool."

"That would be impossible to fight in," Damian argued. Emma hushed him and pressed a distracted finger to his lips.

"Don't burst my dress armor bubble."

\---

They arrived at the Avengers tower around eleven, and Emma handed the jacket back to Damian, giving him a hug that he returned as carefully as usual.

"You better text me, or you're a dead man, Damian Wayne," she said, poking him in the center of his chest.

"Yes Madam," Damian said with a mini mock salute that made Emma laugh.

"Merry Christmas," she said with a grin.

"Merry Christmas, Barton."

She skipped into the elevator, and skipped into the common room, where Bruce, Thor, Pepper, Clint, and Natasha were sitting in the couches. To the left of the tv, stood a huge Christmas Tree, currently only bedazzled with different colored lights.

"Hey kiddo!" Clint called. "You're late."

"Yeah, sorry, we had lots of fun though!" Emma replied as she skipped into the living room, tearing her shoes off as she went. She placed herself in Thor's lap after kissing Clint and Natasha's cheeks, and patted Thor's bearded cheek. "I got to play fancy, that was fun. My dress was dissed though, but I dissed them right back. Damian even complimented me on my sneaky insulting skills. It was pretty great."

"Well, we fixed ourselves a tree," Clint said, waving towards the huge tree. "We're gonna make it pretty when Bucky and Steve come back. That okay with you?"

Emma nodded and sighed happily as she leaned further into Thor's huge torso. She felt so happy and warm, and safe, and she could still feel her skin tingling a little from the cold left behind by Damian's jacket.

This Christmas was going to be the best one she'd ever had.

\---


	55. Mistletoe And Present Forts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, you fine readers!  
> Just a fluffy Christmas chapter with some important three words, a little mistletoe and a little bravery. It got really long because I regained some Christmas spirit whilst writing it.  
> Enjoy the chapter and your (hopefully) pleasant holidays! <3

 

Emma woke up the next day to a billion texts from Layla, pictures of a tabloid with pictures where Emma had Damian's suit jacket over her shoulders and she was smiling. Emma called her right away.

"What magazine is that?" she asked as soon as Layla picked up, and skidded out into her living room.

"Us Weekly," Layla replied. "When the _hell_ did he ask you to a gala?"

"Jarvis, get me the Us Weekly on the tv, please?" she said to the ceiling. "He didn't exactly ask. He pissed me off and as an apology, offered a gala."

"Perks of having a rich friend," Layla said with a hum.

"Yeah yeah," Emma said as the tv was lit up with images. It was her and Damian whispering to each other, on the red carpet, sitting next to each other on the high stools on the bar, his jacket draped over her shoulders. The header of the page was 'who is the mysterious date the youngest Wayne had at the charity gala?'. They had theories, that she was a poor girl he was taking pity on, and Emma laughed at that one. "Who even thought of this?"

"Well, probably some journalist trying to do their job. I thought it was pretty hilarious anyways. And I love your dress. And your hair."

"Thank you! Man, I got snide as hell comments about it."

"Meh, they we're just jealous you looked so pretty and young."

"I am pretty and young."

"Exactly. Always keep that in mind," Layla said. "Sooo... Was that a date?"

"No. Definitely not," Emma said firmly as she moved towards the elevator, still in her pjs. "It was an apology."

"Oh come on Em. You two are like freaky magnets. I think you're gonna end up with each other."

"That's a romantic thought," Emma said with a roll of her eyes.

"Hey! Don't be like that. I love romance, and romantic thoughts are as important to me as breathing. I really think you two are destined to be together. You make him so happy."

"Yeah, well," Emma scrambled for words as she entered the common floor. Clint was feeding Peter as Tony yelled at Natasha, who rolled her eyes, and Bruce was hunching a little in his seat, like he was waiting for a bomb to explode, and Thor looked uncomfortable where he was sat in front of Natasha by the kitchen table. "Hang on a second, gotta stop a war."  
Emma heard Layla's protests, but held her phone to her chest.

"Hey!" she yelled, and Tony stopped shouting. "What the fuck is going on? Bruce is looking green around the edges and Thor looks ready to dash."

"Natasha suggested we decorate the tree without waiting for Steve and Bucky to come back," Clint explained, and Tony put his hands angrily on his hips.

"Which I think is stupid! Without the whole family, it's not the same!" he exclaimed, his voice still way above indoors level.

"Alright, I agree with Tony on this one. I'm not decorating that tree without Steve and Bucky," Emma said.

"Family vote!" Tony said loudly. "Hands up if you want to wait for Steve and Bucky before we decorate the tree!" Five hands went into the air, including Peter's, and Natasha rolled her eyes as Tony gave her a pointed look.

"It was just a suggestion," she said, and went back to eating her bread. Emma placed the phone back to her ear.

"Crisis averted," she said and walked into the living room, flinging herself onto the couch.

"As I was saying," Layla said, "I think you should consider dating Damian."

"I've never dated anyone," she said.

"Well, I'm pretty sure Damian hasn't either. So both of you will screw up, and you can fix it together. Wonders of being two people in a relationship."

"You don't get it," Emma sighed. "With Damian... It's all or nothing. I'm not sure I can handle that." Layla hummed.

"Isn't it all or nothing for you too?"

"I resent that."

"The statement or the fact that I'm right?"

"Aah, fuck you."

"Seriously Em. Date him."

"Maybe I don't wanna." Layla laughed out loud.

"Yeah, no, you want to. I know you do. You get that look in your eyes when Damian jokes and when he takes your hand or your arm or whatever. And hugging, you both look like you want to hug the other one so hard you morph into one. It's frankly a weird attraction thing you've got going on, and I think you should at least give it a try."

"Morph into one? That sounds really freaky. I don't think I've ever wanted to hug someone so hard we morph into one. I just like hugs."

"Especially Damian's hugs."

"Oh shut up," Emma grumbled.

"If I could, then I would, but I can't, so I shan't."

"Stop quoting The Big Bang Theory, Layla."

"It was a good quote."

"Fair enough." Emma sighed.

"At least think about it? I know you're all open outwards, but you've got a depth that you don't just spring on anyone. Damian's all dark and deep and broody. I bet he wouldn't give a shit about your dark secrets. He's mean sometimes, yeah, and he's got his annoying traits, but let's face it: Damian's only human, and currently, the only guy I know except for TJ that would treat a girl well."

"I know, I know, gaaaah," Emma grumbled and buried her face into a pillow. "I dunno. It's kinda gonna rock my world here if I do start dating him."

"Well, won't it be boring to look back at this when you're old and 35 and think 'man, I wish I would've dated Damian'?" Layla said, poorly imitating Emma's voice. She laughed.

"It probably would. Alright, to satisfy your matchmaking needs, I'll say this: I'm not gonna make a move on Damian, but if he makes a move on me, I'll consider it."

"Sounds fair, I suppose. You two are really cute. I just want to smush your faces together like Barbie dolls and make smooching noises." Emma laughed again.

"No need."

"You sure? I'll kick your butt if you don't take the chance to kiss him. You'll make other girls turn positively green. He's an eligible billionaire bachelor."

"He's thirteen and has a horrible view on the world."

"Don't we all?"

"Fair enough." Emma heard a scream of pure joy from the kitchen, and raised an eyebrow. "I gotta go, talk to you later Layla! Merry Christmas and whatnot."

"Merry Christmas," Layla laughed, her beautiful laugh filled with mirth. Emma jumped over the couch and came into the kitchen, only to scream with joy as well, and tackle Bucky in a hug.

Tony was clinging to Steve like a koala climbing a tree, and Steve was laughing as he kissed his fiance, his laughter muffled against Tony's lips. Steve's nose was red from the cold, but his smile was as bright as ever, beaming down at Tony in a way that could only be described as loving.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Emma and hugged her back, hoisting her off the floor as she squealed. Emma wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck and was held in his arms as she breathed in the usual musky scent of him, the sandalwood and leather and lingering smoke that was still unexplained and one of Emma's favorite smells.

She glanced over his shoulder and made another high pitched squeal, because behind him stood Darcy and Jane, with two huge bags by their feet.

"Darcy!" Emma exclaimed, almost crawling over Bucky in her haste to get to the other woman, and Bucky turned to let her down, before Emma dove right into Darcy's thick winter jacket.

"Did you get taller since I last saw you? You feel taller," Darcy said as she squished Emma close to her chest.

"Nope," Emma said, her voice muffled. "Don't think so."

"You sure?" Darcy asked with a smile as she patted Emma's cheek, and received a kiss on the cheek back.

"Pretty sure." On the other side of the kitchen, Steve was being reunited with his son, them hearing the tell tale squeal of Peter's little 'dada'. Emma turned her head to watch Steve hoist Peter into the air and making his kid laugh, before kissing his little cheeks and making him giggle. Peter's smile was sunny and childishly bright, and Emma's eyes flittered to Tony.

His arms were crossed over his chest as he watched the two interact, but he looked more relaxed now than he had yesterday, the tension in his shoulders gone and the lines of worry in his forehead soothed smooth. Tony was always an ass, at least outwardly, always talking louder than everyone else and demanding attention. What other people saw as a need for attention, Emma saw as fear of neglect. With Steve, that fear had faded. Without Steve, Tony reverted back to an ass, except for with Peter.

Peter was an exception all in himself.

Natasha murmured something in Russian in Bucky's ear as she hugged him, and Bucky's hands tightened around her upper arms.

"Shut up," he said as she slid out of his grasp, and swatted after her. She cackled as she, conveniently enough, slowed to a stop behind Steve. Bucky narrowed his eyes angrily at her, and Natasha gave him a smirk that belonged more to the Black Widow than Natasha.

"Alright, the family is home, Christmas tree decorations can commence!" Emma yelled into the now chit-chat filled room. Jane was being swept into a kiss by Thor, and Bruce was talking to Clint as they stared.

"Mm, let us unpack first, maybe? And maybe nap. So much shit has gone down recently that I could go for a nap," Darcy suggested as she brushed a hand over Emma's red tousle of hair.

"How about a Christmas movie which you can nap during?" Emma suggested.

"I can go with that too."

"Awesome! Obligatory Christmas movie, everyone into the living room!"

\---

They watched the Grinch whilst sipping hot chocolate, and talked, even as Emma shushed them. She was smushed into Clint's lap, with her legs spread over Bucky's and Darcy's knees. Clint had his arm around Natasha and they were kissing, the kind of sweet, innocent kissing that were tender and sweet. Natasha hated herself a little for enjoying them as much as she did.

Steve was snuggled into Tony's arms, with their sleeping son cradled in his arms, and Darcy had her arm around Bruce. Thor and Jane took up another couch on their own, Thor sprawled on his stomach with his head on Jane's stomach. She was carelessly carding her hands through his hair, her other hand resting on his strong shoulder.

"Someone should make food," Tony said, his voice muffled into Steve's hair.

"Right," Clint said as he tore his mouth away from Natasha's. He nudged Emma's head with his chin. "I vote for the little person to do it."

"Nah man, there's no way my culinary skills could ever be enough to feed this horde of people," she said.

"I can make curry," Bruce suggested. Tony's arm, with a pointed finger, shot out from the Stark-Rogers pile.

"What he said," Tony muttered. "I like what he said."

"I could go for curry," Natasha said, and poked Emma in the side. "Let Emma help too."

"Sure," Bruce said with a timid smile.

"Why do I have to help?" Emma whined, but crawled off Clint's lap as Bruce slid out from underneath Darcy's arm.

"Think of it as the chores we never give you. Like helping with the laundry and doing the dishes and everything that requires responsibility. Except this is fun." Emma shrugged.

"Bruce is fun," she agreed and trotted into the kitchen after the good doctor.

"So presents," Darcy said as soon as Emma was out of hearing range. "What's your opinion on those?"

"Well, I've gotten all of you things," Tony said.

"That was kinda expected, I was thinking more about the lovely spies," Darcy replied with a bright smile his way. Clint looked at Natasha, who shrugged.

"We like presents. We've gotten presents for you guys."

"As a couple?"

"Ew, stop making us sound like third graders. As partners," Clint frowned.

"So, as per usual," Tony said with a quirked eyebrow.

"Are you trying to imply something, Stark? You know subtlety isn't your strongest suit."

"No, that would be the Hulkbuster," Tony said with an affirmative nod.

"We've given our gifts together for like years, why would this year be any different?" Natasha asked Darcy to stop the inevitable squabble coming up.

The tradition had started when Clint had forgotten to pay two months rent, how he even did that was above Natasha's head since there had been one mission during those two months that had taken any physical force, but then he'd scraped together just enough to pay back, and left himself more or less broke for the holidays. She had suggested that they buy together and give together, and Clint had thought it an amazing idea. They hadn't stopped doing it, for some reason, but it just felt like a hassle to buy presents without Clint. He had such creative ideas.

"Just checking," Darcy said with a shrug.

"Presents for Emma though," Clint said and gave Tony a squint. "If you get her a damn car, I will be confiscating it. Or a motorcycle."

"Oh, no, I have other plans."

"Or _suits_."

"...That's not what I was going to give her," Tony said innocently.

" _Sure_."

"It wasn't!"

"Pinky promise me," Clint said, stretching his hand over Bucky's legs to reach Tony. Tony stretched his pinky out too.

"Pinky promise, I'm not going to give your daughter any cars or suits."

"Or motorcycles!" Clint said.

"Yeah yeah, I pinky promise," Tony said with a laugh.

\---

After a delicious dinner and lots of praise for the two cooks, they drifted apart for some down time. Jane and Darcy went to unpack.

"I'll have Jarvis fix up a guest room for you," Tony said to Darcy. She pushed her bag into the elevator with an amused huff.

"No need. I'm bunking elsewhere," she said with a smirk.

"Where the hell is- oh." Bucky gave Darcy a small smile, and she beamed back, before she closed the doors behind her and Jane. "Look at you two," Tony whistled, and Bucky snorted.

"She's staying in my room. So what?"

"No hanky-panky going on?" Tony asked and wiggled his eyebrows. Bucky frowned.

"No."

"Leave them alone, Tony," Natasha said breezily and rested a hand over the nape of his neck, ready to dig in her nails should he not drop the subject. He was too nosy for his own good, and this was something Bucky was getting good at, interacting, joking, kissing even, and Natasha wasn't going to let Tony accidentally make that all crumble.

Tony shot Bucky a curious look, but kept his mouth shut, thankfully, even though Natasha was almost sure he would've kept going, had it not been for Steve's hand coming to rest on his thigh. Her hand retreated and went instead to Clint's cheek.

"Upstairs?" she asked innocently, and Clint blinked before getting up so fast the table rattled. Natasha snickered as he grabbed her hand and made their way to the elevator. Emma had already left, getting upstairs to her room to do God knows what.

As soon as the doors of the elevator closed behind them, Natasha slammed Clint up against the wall, pressing her lips to his hotly. Clint returned the kiss with a startled sound, but was very soon on board with wherever this was going.

Her fingers found purchase in his hair, and the elevator dinged. Without breaking their frenzied kissing, Clint walked forwards, efficiently pressing Natasha up against their own wall, and hoisted her up on his hips.

"Clinton," she breathed as his mouth left hers to kiss and nip at her neck. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he kissed that sensitive spot at the dip of her throat, giving it an especially rough bite.

"We might wanna stop," Clint groaned against her neck as she used what leverage she had to grind her hips against his. He moaned, low in his throat, and Natasha moaned with him.

"Why would we want to that?"

"Kid," he reminded her, and Natasha sighed as he kept lightly kissing her neck.

"Right. We can make out on the couch," she suggested. Clint hummed and detached from her neck.

"That sounds like a great idea," he agreed. Clint let Natasha down from the wall, and she grabbed him by a belt loop, dragging him towards the couch. She flopped him down on his back, and laughed when he dragged her down with him.

They made out like teenagers, all panted breaths and tongues, keeping their hands away from hems of clothes in case it got too heated.

"Gross!" came Emma's call from their kitchen, and Natasha sat up where she was straddling Clint. Emma was holding a huge glass of milk in front of her, with a box of oreos underneath her arm.

"You have young, in love parents, boo hoo!" Clint called, and Emma laughed, grabbing tape and a pair of scissors from a cabinet.

"Why do you need those?" Natasha asked, slightly suspiciously, as Emma gathered up a wire cutter, who even had those in a kitchen, and a steel wire.

"For stuff," she said, in a 'duh' tone.

"Christmas stuff?" Clint asked, sitting up enough to look over the back of the couch at her.

"Yup!" Emma stole a black magnet off their fridge and slunk back into her room, closing the door. Natasha and Clint stared at the door for a few seconds.

"I'm kinda concerned as to how her explosive teen years will be," Clint remarked, and Natasha hummed.

"I say we get rid of anything breakable when that happens."

"Right. So basically, we place her into the wilderness when she gets explosively mad?"

"We'll have to figure out a better solution for when her explosive years happen."

"We really didn't think this through," Clint remarked.

"I think it's one of the best things we've done, really," Natasha murmured, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"That makes two of us."

\---

"Alright kiddo, Christmas tree time!" Clint called, and Emma came sprinting out of her room, with an enthusiastic Lucky following. As they piled into the elevator, Clint noticed something different about Lucky. "Are those reindeer horns?"

"Yup," Emma said, and beamed at him.

"Did you make those?" Natasha asked.

"No no, Tony found them and gave them to me. They're a little too small for me, but perfect for Lucky, and he seemed okay with wearing them," she said, getting her hand licked by Lucky, who made a little 'rawf' of a bark.

"They're cute. Very Christmassy," Clint said.

"All hail the Christmas dog!" Emma giggled.

"You haven't even changed out of your pjs," Natasha said critically, pinching Emma's reindeer bedazzled pajama pants. Emma looked down on her pants.

"At least I'm _wearing_ pants! Unlike Thor and Tony, who apparently have taken it upon themselves to embarrass everyone by wearing equally flashy superhero undies. I think Bruce almost choked when Thor had Hulk fists on his ass."

"Mm, maybe I should join them in embarrassing Bruce," Clint said thoughtfully.

"Yes, embarrassing Bruce seems like the best way to get yourself seriously maimed, doesn't it?" Natasha said, sarcasm thick in her tone.

"Are you implying I _try_ to get myself hurt?"

"It's not like you try not to get yourself hurt," she said.

"Says Miss-dangerous-is-my-middle-name."

"Christmas!" Emma said, waving her hands in the air like an aggressive swan. "No fighting on Christmas! Only kisses."

"That's quite a demand, sweetie," Clint remarked as he herded the two redheads out of the elevator and into the living room. Emma slid on her socks into Steve immediately, who caught her with a laugh and a light oumpfh.

Darcy was perched on Thor's shoulders, hanging a few golden orbs up high. Tony was wearing his Iron Man boots, and floating high up in the air, by the top of the tree, with Peter in his arms. The toddler was speaking gibberish as he helped his father throw glitter onto the tree. Tony was smiling from ear to ear, the laughlines visible around his eyes and mouth, and Steve was looking at him tenderly, a mix of awe and love on his features. Bruce was teaching Bucky and Jane how to make paper chains of people on the floor, and Emma now joined Steve in plucking things out of different colored boxes on the floor, and handing them to Darcy.

"Hat for you, tinsel for you," Steve said, handing Natasha a santa hat, and Clint some blue tinsel that he tied into a headband and put on.

"What's the plan of attack?" Clint asked. "Has Tony done the outside yet?"

"Nope, but he was planning on bringing Emma with him, if that's okay with you two. You know, she's got her magnetic gloves and all, and besides, wouldn't that be an experience? First real Christmas she remembers and all," Steve said carefully.

"As long as her first Christmas she remembers doesn't end up with her in the ER, I'm fine with it," Clint said. Natasha worried her lip. Tony built good stuff, trustworthy things, his weapons hadn't failed her yet, and he was a genius. But still...

"It'll be icy," Natasha interjected. "What if she slips with only the gloves on?"

"Do you really think Tony would let her fall?" Clint countered. Natasha bit her lip.

"No, but it just..."

"We'll let her decide," Clint suggested.

"I'm pretty sure most parents don't include their child in safety discussions, seeing as the effort is usually futile," Natasha remarked. Clint shrugged.

"Since when are we 'most parents'? 'Most parents' sound boring. Emma!"

She peeked out from behind a box filled with Christmas decorations, her hair already covered in glitter and tinsel wrapped around one hand.

"Wha'?"

"Wanna help Tony decorate the outside later?"

"The outside of the _tower_?" Emma squawked.

"Yeah," Clint smiled. "You can wear your magnet gloves and climb around and help with the lights."

"That sounds awesome!" Emma exclaimed. She looked up at Natasha. "Can I?"

"If you want to," Natasha said, watching as Tony flew over their heads.

"Mistletoe!" he cheered, and everyone looked up, including Clint and Natasha.

"Really, Tony?" Natasha sighed, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, really, kiss!" Tony said. Darcy started chanting 'kiss kiss kiss kiss' from Thor's shoulders, and Jane joined in. Bucky just gave Natasha a smug smile, and she shrugged, and grabbed Clint by the back of the neck, swooping him down into a Disney princess style kiss.

The others whooped and cheered, and when they pulled away, Clint's cheeks were flushed and Natasha was smirking like a cat. Tony pressed the mistletoe to the little arch that was the opening from the kitchen to the living room with some tape.  
It stood out beautifully from the crisp white walls.

When the tree was garnished with red, green, gold ornaments and tinsel, only then did they give up. Emma was digging around in one last box as the adults settled into the couch with hot various hot beverages. Tony was holding Peter up by one of the plastic ones, and Peter is feeling for it, trying to grasp it in his too small hand.

"Hey, what's this?" Emma asked, and plucked a chipped, wooden heart out of the box. The heart was the size of her palm, and the red paint was scratched off in some places, but smack in the middle of it, was five black, cursive letters. " _Amore_. What's that mean?"

Tony seemed to choke on air.

"Where the hell did you find that?" he asked quickly, taking a step forward. Emma shrugged.

"In the box. What does 'amore' mean?"

"Love," Bucky told her. Tony gave him a look.

"You speak Italian?" he asked, reaching for the heart. Emma held it firmly in her palm.

"A little."

"It's a cute heart. Can we hang it in the tree?" Emma asked, looking up at Tony with wide, innocent eyes. His hand faltered, and a look of apprehensiveness crossed over his features. "I wanna hang it in the tree."  
Tony stared at her long and hard, and then he hugged Peter a little tighter.

"Okay," he said quietly. Emma stood up, and hung the heart on as high of a branch as she could reach, which was roughly in Tony's line of sight.

"It's nice. Home-y. Where did you get it?" she asked him. Tony took a deep breath.

"I made it," he replied. "For my mom. I was seven."

"I like it." Tony was quiet for a while, staring at the ornament as if it somehow could catch on fire if he stared hard enough. Peter made a happy little squeal and reached for the heart. "See, Peter does too!"

That made Tony smile, and he gave Peter's soft fuzz of brown hair a kiss.

"Yeah," he said, his voice so gentle and quiet that Emma might as well not have heard it.

\---

The next day, Emma and Bucky went Christmas shopping. He was the only one she'd already fixed a present for, and now Bucky was feeling ambitious as well, so out they went.

When they came back to the tower, they had Starbucks with them, Bucky sipping a peppermint mocha latte with a dead serious look on his face, and Emma sipping something sugary and very caffeeine-less.

Tony and Emma set to decorating the outside. Emma jumped around on the facuade, her magnetic gloves working smooth as ever after she'd figured the technique out. Clint watched her nervously from the roof, even though he'd been more casual about it when he thought she'd be going, like, two stories off the ground. Nope.

Emma was hand-walking her way around the metal of the tower, spreading lights in a formation of "Happy Holidays!" with Tony's help. _Over twenty stories above ground._ Clint was not prepared for the mini heart attack he got when Emma jumped off the tower and latched into Tony's back, and strangled the scream ready to escape his throat.

"Christ," someone breathed out next to him, and Clint turned to stare at Bucky, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were wide, staring at Emma intensely as Tony boosted upwards and her loud, shreeking laughter came closer and closer.

"No fear in her," Clint muttered.

"Just like her ma," Bucky muttered back, just as Iron Man came to a stop in front of them, still in the air. Emma was perched on his back, her gloves on his shoulders. Her hair was messy underneath her grey hat, and she was grinning from ear to ear, her cheeks red with the cold. The snow had begun to fall again, lazy flakes sticking to her hair.

"Hey losers," Tony said. "We're done now. Plus, the snow will fuck with Emma's gloves and their magnetic manipulation, and we don't want that, now do we?"

"Magnetic manipulation?" Clint mouthed, and Emma giggled.

"See, they're not really _magnetic_ , per se, they act like magnets, but they're really not. Tony's suit isn't magnetic, but they're still sticking to it because of the gold-titanium alloy and it's other characteristics similar to that of magnetic materials."

"You're so going to college," Clint said with a laugh. Emma smiled at him as Tony landed on the roof, helping her climb off his back.

"What's college?" she asked curiously.

"You don't know what college is?" Emma shrugged a little.

"Not really. I'm guessing it's a school."

"There's pre-K, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school, and then you go to college or university," Tony explained.

"Weird. What college did you go to?"

"MIT," he said proudly.

"What the hell is that?" Emma snickered. "I'm thinking about mittens. Did you learn to make mittens?" Tony's faceplate flipped open, and he looked so stricken that Clint had to laugh.

"No no no no, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. _Sweetie_."

"That does make more sense. Though I wouldn't hate some homemade mittens for Christmas now that I think about it," Emma said.

"Duly noted," Clint said. "Hot chocolate anybody?"

Bucky was already on his way towards the door leading to the elevator. Tony shrugged.

"I'm up for it. I'll leave the suit and meet you in the kitchen," he said. Clint made a mock salute as Tony flipped the face plate back down and jumped off the edge, only to earn a startled laugh from Emma.

"Get your other gloves and we'll hop on inside," Clint said with a smile.

"On it!" Emma exclaimed happily, skidding over the roof towards where she'd last seen them.

"Looking for these?"

Emma whipped around, ready to kick some villain butt. Then she froze. And huffed out a laugh.

"Hello, dramatic stranger," Emma said with a grin, and Damian's lips quirked as he handed her her purple gloves. He was wearing a hat, homemade with love in the stitches. It was dark green, and Damian looked cute in it, with a little ball of yarn at the top.

"Hello. I haven't seen you in forever," he said sarcastically, and her grin got wider.

"So you decided to pop in on our rooftop?"

"Obviously. How else would I manage to get your attention after all this time?" She laughed.

"Well, you know, calling works. Texting too. But, I like that you came by. Gives me the opportunity of shoving snow down your shirt."

"I believe I'm the one who was on the verge of revenge, not you, Barton," he said with a sly grin. Emma laughed.

"Yeah, I guess. Doesn't mean I won't shove snow down your shirt."

"What is it with you and shoving things down my shirt?" he smirked.

"I like shoving things down your shirt, have a problem with that?"

"Depends on what it is. Popcorn is fine, but snow, I have to get you back for snow."

"Oh really?" Emma said with a grin, backing up a little already.

"Really." She grabbed some snow off the ground, watching it sift through her fingers. "I would fight you here and now, but I only dropped by for a few moments."

"Getting a ride home?" she asked. Damian snorted.

"One could say that."

"Who's hiding in the snow?" Emma asked.

"Diana." Internally, Emma squealed. "She wasn't opposed to meeting you again."

"Oh, wow. Awesome. Diana is..."

"A hero of yours?" Damian suggested, and Emma wanted to rub snow into his smug face.

"Yeah." She shifted a little bit in the snow. "So you dropped by because..."

Damian stiffened up, and seemed to bite back curses.

"To k- To say merry Christmas," he said, closing his eyes angrily. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Sure about that?" He huffed out air through his nose, nodding. "Well, merry Christmas to you too." She stepped forward, and crushed him in a hug, relishing in his surprised grunt and the light pressure of hands around her shoulders.

When she let go, she beamed up at him, and promptly flicked a gathering of snowflakes into his face before she slid out of his arms. Emma was two steps away from him when he laughed and brushed the snow out of his face.

"Merry Christmas!" she called back at him, and Damian shook his head with a smirk. Emma really was a spitfire.

 _Damn it all_.

"Barton, wait!" Damian called after her, and Emma turned around, slowing down. He stalked up to her, less than two steps between them, and then dragged something out of his pocket. She looked up, as he held something over her head, being the taller of the two.

It was a mistletoe, a tiny green branch with a red string at the end. His cheeks were flushed either from embarrassment, or the cold, but if Emma had to guess, she would have said the first. Her heartbeat picked up severely. "Christmas tradition, right?"

Emma swallowed hard but nodded when he leaned down, his warm lips just a breath away when she heard her name being called sharply. Damian stepped away from her quickly, nearly knocking their noses together but their lips never touching, and Emma had to suppress a huff of disappointment.

"What?!" she called to the left of her, and now Damian was definitely blushing from embarrassment. Clint was standing twenty feet away in the snow, and raised an eyebrow at her. She growled low in her throat.

"Aah, screw you!" she called and grabbed Damian by his coat, pulling him in and letting their lips meet. It was a warm kiss, a soft and chaste one, but it was still a kiss, and it might have made Damian's stomach flutter a little. Just a smidge. When Emma let him go again, he was suppressing a grin, and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Text me when you get home," she said, her cheeks red and a large smile curling her lips, and he nodded.

"I shall. Bye Emma."

"Bye Damian," she said, pretending her heart didn't flutter at the way he said her name, and they parted ways. She was walking towards Clint, who made a 'what the fuck' motion with his hands, and Emma just made the ASL sign for 'cute' and Clint gave up an exasperated sigh.

"I'm telling Tony!" he said.

"Go ahead. I bet it will shock Steve's socks off," Emma grinned and threw a handfull of snow at him.

"I should have gotten the hose on you two."

"Says 'Cupid'!"

"Nat told you I said that?"

"She also called you a whore with a bow and arrow."

Clint threw a snowball at her back, and hit perfectly. Emma squealed, and headed for the safety and warmth of inside.

\---

"You kissed a boy? Willingly?" Steve said, confusion clear over his face.

"Yeah. You kiss boys all the time, Steve. You only kiss boys. I kissed Damian," Emma smiled, sipped her hot chocolate. She was curled with Steve next to her, acting as a space heater, and Tony on the floor with Peter playing with the light streaming out of his chest.

"Ah. _Damian_ ," Tony said.

"Stop saying his name like that, Iron Ass!" she said, frowning at him.

"Hey, hey hey, I like the kid. He's got his head screwed on right."

"He held a mistletoe over my head," Emma grinned.

"Oh, that's so cute," Tony sighed dramatically.

"But he didn't head for the kiss directly, he just said 'christmas tradition' and I nodded, and _then_ he kissed me. I felt very respected, Steve, you should like that."

"I still don't like that he kissed you," he said. Emma laughed.

"Oh, come on, you guys are not those kinds of parents, are you? Peter is going to be _so_ awkward. It's going to be adorable. He's going to have to swat suitors away with flyswatters."

"Or repulsors," Tony offered, and Steve looked horrified.

"Tony!"

"What? It's an option!"

"No, honey, it's not. We're not giving Peter any repulsors."

"He does have his spider-powers. I bet he could web them off."

"Sounds pretty awesome, really," Emma said with a shrug. "I would, if I could, rather than kill them. Killing people isn't fun, really, seriously maiming is... was more fun that it is now." Steve's look turned into one of pity, and Tony looked a little grim.

"Understandable." Ever the silence filler, Tony spoke up again. "Bucky will snap him like a twig when he finds out."

"Nope. No innocence for him to protect. And he's not like that. He's protective, yeah, but he's not gonna snap Damian like a twig. He'll do it slowly, carefully so that I don't notice. I should probably warn Damian about my murderous family."

_Even though it's not gonna be a lot better with his family._

She imagined Damian coming home with a victorious grin on his face and the shit he would get from Jason about it and how he would say worse things back. She imagined Bruce squinting at him, and Alfred smiling dryly at him, saying it was about bloody time, and Dick's laugh and ruffling of his hair. 

Alright, maybe Bucky would get a little more protective when he found out she kissed a boy.

Emma kissed a boy! Damian, specifically!

She'd been tempted to call Hope and Layla, but refrained from it, seeing as she would be seeing them the twenty seventh anyways, for ice skating.

"Excited about Christmas Eve tomorrow?" Steve asked. Emma nodded vigorously.

"Totally! Kate and Sam and Rhodey and Pepper and yes? I'm very hyped. This is my first family Christmas and I'm hella pumped. But it's kinda bullshit that I don't get to open any the twenty-fourth."

"You could probably open one?" Steve said questioningly, giving Tony a glance.

"No," Tony said sternly. "At the most, you get to stare at them longingly. As will you have to, Steven Grant Rogers." Steve grinned.

"Oh, is that so? I bet I'll get to unwrap one of my presents early," Steve said teasingly. 

"Minor! Minor in the room!" Emma said loudly, pointing to herself. "Stop being gross and in love."

"Says the girl who just had her first kiss," Tony said with a smirk. Emma made an indecisive noise.

"First real first kiss," she decided. Steve got that pained look on his features again.

"Well at least your first real first kiss was cute and all," Tony complained. "Mine was when I was sixteen at MIT and some girl shoved her tongue down my throat after having three shots too many."

"Whoa whoa whoa, that so wasn't your first real first kiss," Emma protested. "Your first real first kiss is when you wanna kiss the person and they want to kiss you for reasons not related to the grown up horizontal tango. At least in my opinion."

"Oh," Tony said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Then I guess my first real first kiss was with Pepper when I was like, thirty-two?"

"Well, I bet Pepper was a good kisser," Emma said.

"At least it didn't take you ninety-five years to get your first real first kiss," Steve said softly.

"You sap," Tony said gently. Emma grabbed her cup of hot chocolate tighter.

"I'm gonna skedaddle before you two start mackin' on each other. If I'm not a participant, I'm not for kissing," she complained as she slid out into the kitchen with her wool christmas socks on.

"You could get a smooch too if you ask nicely!" Tony called after her.

"No thanks, I've got other people who willingly smooch my face!" she called back with a grin.

\---

The twenty-fourth of December was a cheerful occasion for anyone related to the Avengers.

Pepper and Happy dropped in first, with champagne and a Christmassy flower. Pepper's dress was grey with red details, and she looked strikingly beautiful as ever, her killer heels traded down for just a high heel.

Next came Kate, in a pair of red pants and Christmas socks along with an ugly Christmas sweater, looking as happy as ever with a cut taped shut on her forehead. The only explanation she gives for the wound is "wanted to be in the christmas spirit, you know, all red and stuff" which was a concerning answer in itself. She settled down with eggnog easily enough.

Then came Sam, almost immediately getting himself into a arm wrestling match with Emma, who beat him easily enough to get him frustrated.

"Damn superspies, reproducing and whatnot," Sam muttered under his breath, and Emma laughed hard, the bells in her hair ringing. Thor had braided them into her hair earlier.

Rhodey came last, walking down Tony's de-assembling walk and practically beaming when he hugged his best friend and met his new nephew and got a hug from Emma. Pepper kissed his cheek as she hugged him and Happy clapped him on the back.

Peter was in his best shirt, looking adorable as hell and getting many kisses and cooing all around him. A people magnet. His parents beamed proudly around him.

The lunch was an all around success, everyone talking by the dinner table and then in the couches as Emma crawled around on the floor, playing with Peter and getting the occasional sip of Pepsi ("Pepsi?!" Tony exclaimed as she'd asked for it, aghast. "Blasphemy!").

Everyone went home just half an hour shy of midnight, and Emma was asleep in the couch, curled up in Bucky's embrace. Darcy's head was rested on his shoulder, dozing off too. Tony had gone upstairs earlier with Peter, but Clint helped untangle Emma from the heap, and carried her upstairs as Bucky woke Darcy up gently, kissing her temple softly and brushing her hair out of her face.

"No, you have to carry me. You're big enough to teleport me," Darcy whined. Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, princess," he muttered as he lifted her into a bridal carry with grace and ease.

"See?" Darcy yawned as he walked into the next elevator. "Best teleporter ever."

"I have no idea what you're talkin' 'bout," he chuckled.

"You didn't get teleported as a kid? When you fell asleep in the car and woke up in your bed?"

"I really don't think so," he said, his voice drifting as the doors to the elevators closed. Jane and Thor retreated as well, and Bruce shuffled into the elevator with them. Natasha was just about to tuck into bed when Clint peeked into her room, having ditched his nice pants and currently wearing a ratty old t-shirt and pyjama pants.

"Hey," he said. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hi," Natasha replied, pulling her shorts up to her hips.

"Could you come down with me for a second?" he asked, shifting on his feet, as if he was nervous.

"Sure," Natasha said with a shrug, dragging one of his old t-shirts over her head before joining him. His calloused hand wrapped around hers as they walked into the elevator. "We're not going to do something adventurous here, are we?"

"Nope," he replied with a cheeky grin.

"Then what are we doing?"

"You'll see."

"If this is another glitterbomb surprise you want me to help you with, I just want you to know I'm super tired and not at all prepared to find glitter at twelve am on Christmas Eve." Clint chuckled.

"I'm glad you'd be willing to help me make glitterbombs again. That was a great Easter, wasn't it?"

"It was," she said with a smile as the doors slid open. Clint guided her back into the living room. New York City stretched out around them behind the windows, and the only thing lighting up the dim room, was the lights on the Christmas tree.

"Sit," Clint said, motioning for Natasha to sit down by the tree. Natasha sat, and watched as Clint sat down in front of her. "I have a Christmas present for you."

"It's still Christmas Eve," Natasha pointed out, and Clint smiled softly.

"Alright, it's a European Christmas present. You're getting another one tomorrow."

"Oh really? You're spoiling me."

"I love to." Natasha's heart clenched. Tony had gotten her thinking about the whole... _love_ ordeal, and now she was going to  sort this out with Clint.

But maybe she could worm out of it for just a little longer.

"So, what did you get me?" Natasha asked, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. Clint smiled secretively.

"Close your eyes," he said.

"Childish."

"Shut up and be childish for a second, please Tash?" With a light chuckle, she closed her eyes. "No peeking." He placed both her hands over her eyes.

"I'm not going to peek, Clint."

"Good."

There was some rustling, and Clint took a deep breath.

"Alright, you can open your eyes." Natasha did.

And stared at the red jewelry box in his hands, with a little bow on it. She swallowed.

"Merry Christmas, Tasha," he said gently, a look of nervousness flickering over his face. She took the box out of his hands carefully, clicking the clasp open. The box was too rectangular and slim to be a ring, and she felt her heart quicken at the prospect.

As soon as Natasha laid eyes on the necklace inside, she smiled, wide. Wider than he'd seen her smile in forever.

"Do you like it?" he asked carefully, hopefully. Natasha's fingers traced the silver arrow charm resting on soft velvet in the box, and she nodded.

"I love it. It's beautiful, Clint."

"I thought you could wear it when we're not on missions, you know, non-compromising situations and whatnot. With the others," Clint said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he rambled.

"I know what a necklace is for, Clint," Natasha said, and then she grabbed his chin and kissed him, slow and deep. Clint sighed happily into her mouth, and relaxed underneath her. When she pulled away, she cocked her head to the side. "I love it."

"And I love you," Clint said softly. Natasha took a deep breath, but didn't shy away this time, staying close to him.

"Clint..."

"No, I know you... I know it's hard for you to say it, and I don't expect you to. I'm just letting you know. I'm not saying it to hear it back, I'm saying it to make it known." Natasha closed her eyes.

"You have to know something too," Natasha said, her voice shaking a little as Clint took her hands in his. "If you want me like that... You're getting all of me. The good, the bad, the ugly, the horrifying. All of it. And you're not getting out alive of leaving me." Clint shook his head, leaning in to kiss her cheekbones.

"I wouldn't want it any other way. I would never leave you," he whispered in the dim light of the Christmas tree, and Natasha felt his warm hands squeeze hers for just a moment.

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered, and Clint smiled at her, letting go of one of her hands to let a finger ghost over her cheek.

"Because you've always been there. You're my best friend. I don't think I would be able to _breathe_ right without you. You're the world to me, Natasha. Don't you ever think otherwise. Ever," Clint murmured. "Godammit, Tasha, _I love you_."

Natasha felt her eyes burn, and Clint kissed away the tear that ran down her face, and then she grabbed his blonde hair and tugged him into a breathtaking kiss. When they finally pulled apart, Natasha gathered her breath, and whispered

"I love you too."

\---

Emma woke up at fuck-o-clock, and put Lucky's horns on his head again, before bursting into Clint's room, where both of her parents were sleeping peacefully.

"It's Christmas!" came her joyful shout, as she jumped up on the assassins' bed, getting Lucky to jump up with her. Clint groaned into his pillow.

"I'm not ready for waking up yet," he grumbled, but Natasha yawned and stretched, and then lifted the covers up.

"It's only six am, возлюбленный," she mumbled. "The others aren't awake yet, and we can't open presents without them."

"Fine," Emma said petulantly, and crawled in between her parents, immediately getting Natasha's arm wrapped around her and a kiss on her forehead from Clint. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so loved. It really was the little things that made her feel the most at home. "Did you get Bucky a present?"

"Emma, sweetheart, sleep," Clint said, laying a hand over her eyes. Emma pushed it off.

"But I don't wanna sleep! I wanna open presents!"

"Alright, I'll make a deal with you," Clint mumbled. "If you can stay really quiet for over fifteen minutes and not fall asleep, we'll go up and open presents. Okay?"

"Okay!" Emma said excitedly.

Ten minutes later, Emma was snoring lightly, pressed to Natasha's chest.

"Good deal you cut with her," Natasha said with a smile Clint's way. He smiled back, reaching out a hand to brush over her cheek. His fingers traced her jawline, cupping her cheek as he went. 

"You're beautiful," he said softly, and Natasha smiled, that soft, sleepy smile he rarely got to see on her face.

"And you're sentimental," she replied just as soft.

"Eh, so what," he replied. "You love it."

"I do." Clint's insides warmed up infinitely when he heard her whisper those two words.

At nine thirty, Emma awoke again, quickly sitting up in bed.

"Crap!" she exclaimed. "Presents!"

"Alright, alright," Clint chuckled, and heaved himself out of bed in sync with his daughter. Both stretched, doing the same motions as Natasha watched Clint's back muscles flex. Her mouth watered a little.

"Presents!" Emma exclaimed again, and found her happy companion Lucky sleeping by the end of the bed. They rushed out toward the elevator as Natasha uncurled from the bed, following behind her excited lover and child.

Now, wasn't that a thought she never thought she would have?

Emma was practically jumping up and down in the elevator with excitement as they went down.

"Jarvis, are the others up?" Clint asked.

"Sir and Captain Rogers arrived in the common area with young Master Peter seven minutes ago. Sergeant Barnes and Miss Lewis are on their way as we speak, as is Dr. Foster and Prince Thor. Dr. Banner is sleeping on the couch," Jarvis replied.

"Merry Christmas, Jarvis!" Emma exclaimed.

"Merry Christmas, miss Emma," he replied, his voice a little less haughty British butler than usual.

The doors opened, and Emma ran out of the elevator, and into the common room with a squee, effectively waking Bruce up and startling him enough to rattle his tea cup. Steve caught it just in time, and Tony calmed Bruce with a hand on his arm.

"Merry Christmas to you too," Tony laughed as Emma dove into the huge pile of presents that had somehow appeared during the night. There were five really big ones, some medium sized ones and a litter of small ones. Emma's eyes flew over the nametags, and she more or less burrowed herself in under the tree.

Suddenly something cold encased her ankle, and she was dragged out of the pile by a chuckling Bucky.

"What'cha doing, doll?" he asked and sunk down on his heels next to her.

"Just scoping out the place," she said innocently. He sat down next to her.

"Wanna hand 'em out?"

"Yes! Please! Right now!" Emma exclaimed. The others settled into the couch, and even Peter was perched in his Aunt Tasha's lap, patting his father's cheek absently as he watched Emma from the other side of the room.

"Okay, honey, get this show on the road!" Tony called, and Emma grinned as she grabbed a present.

"Merry Christmas... Steve! From Natasha and Clint."

They handed all the presents out, all stopping to watch someone wave a new pair of headphones or gear in the air.  
Steve got a pair of mittens from Natasha and Clint, homemade ones with intricate blue and red patterns, and a book on pop culture from Bruce, a gift from Tony that he didn't want to show anyone, and a pink coffee mug that said 'tell me about it, stud' from Darcy, ever the movie geek.

Bucky got, surprisingly, a ton of small gifts. He got six magnets with different moods on them, one of them being 'stabby', to put on his arm from Tony, colorful scrunchies from Natasha and Clint and a quick note in Russian that made him chuckle at Natasha as she made a cutting motion with her fingers, and a grey shirt with 'sometimes I doubt your commitment to sparkle motion' printed on it from Emma, along with assorted trinkets that he laughed heartily at and nobody else but Emma understood why.

"You're a treasure, you know that?" Bucky said as he grabbed her head, giving her hair a loud kiss. "Amazing."

Emma laughed heartily as she opened her presents. She'd gotten a dark green and a maroon sweater from Pepper, a Star Wars bedsheet, and a pair of undies with a Superman emblem on it. She'd also gotten multiple bracelets and rings, the requested mittens, and, from Tony and Steve, a golden chain with a small golden heart on it. Darcy gave her a rare Buckybear plush, and she got the rare Captain Ameribear from Tony as well. One of the huge boxes contained an electric guitar for her, and another one a remote control airplane the size of Steve's torso, and from Thor, Emma got an enchanted ring.

"It wards You from dark magic," Thor explained, sliding the ring onto Emma's middle finger. "It was given to me to give to You from my sister in arms, Lady Sif."

"Lady Sif?!" Emma exclaimed. "Lady Sif used to have this ring?" She looked ready to faint, and Thor smiled a little smugly.

"You know of Lady Sif's bravery then?"

"Hell yeah! Sif's a shield maiden! She's got a sword and knows how to swing it," Emma said, staring at the ring with huge eyes.

"She heard of your bravery, and told me to give You her ring to ward any other harm out of your way."

"Holy shit," Emma whispered. An obsidian stone rested in carved silver folds, and fit her finger perfectly. "Thanks, Thor!"

Thor beamed warmly.

Thor himself had received a shit ton of pants and underwear and socks, because seriously, pants were needed in the tower and not in the tower. Pants were needed everywhere. Thor didn't seem to get it. He also got a scarf from Natasha and Clint, in dark red and gray.

Clint got sketches of new arrow ideas from Kate, a new purple t-shirt from Darcy, as well as a mug that said 'aw, coffee, no' from Tony. Steve got him a Star Wars bible, everything about the two trilogies and the actors from it packed into one book, and Bruce provided him with a new first aid kit.

"Is this a hint that I get hurt too often?"

"No, it's a hint that you should always have a first aid kit nearby," Bruce said and sipped his tea with raised eyebrows. Clint got an apron that said 'I'd rather be sleeping' on it from Natasha, and...

He laughed as he unwrapped his Hulk-themed boxers from Emma, who shot him a shit-eating grin.

"You fucking gem," Clint laughed as he ruffled her hair. Bruce let out a bark of laughter.

"You're all trying to mock me, aren't you?"

"Would we do that?" Clint asked innocently. Bruce narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. Obviously."

Natasha received a thick grey cardigan from Clint, who smiled at her as she touched the pendant now hanging in between her collarbones, upgrades for her Widow Bites from Tony, a coupon for a lunch date with Steve, vodka from Bucky, actually Russian too, and the recipe for Bruce's famous cookies. He told her to guard it with her life, and she nodded solemnly.

When all the presents were opened, Emma checked under the tree again, just to see if there was any chance she'd get to unwrap anything else. Just when she was about to sigh and tell everybody the presents were out, her eyes located a golden envelope.

"What's this?" Emma asked, pulling it out and flipping it over. It said her name in cursive letters, probably Steve's. Clint leaned back in the couch with a shrug.

"Open it," he suggested. She did as suggested, and read the note in it.

"What the hell is this?" Emma asked again, her eyes huge as she stared at the envelope.

"Didn't you want everything bad with 'ism' to end for Christmas?" Clint asked casually. Emma's eyes turned a little bit wider.

"The Avengers are promoting an anti-sexism and anti-racism campaign?" she read out loud excitedly.

"Well, yeah. We're already kissing babies and shaking hands and saving the world. Feels like we could do a lot more. We're gonna shoot some videos about racism and sexism and how it works and stuff, and how it's affected some of our more media shy members, and drop it on some social media networks, see what happens," Tony said with a shrug, and Emma gaped at them all.

"That's awesome!"

"We do have our moments of awesomeness," Clint said with a smile, and Emma's face broke into a grin, stretching from ear to ear.

"This has been the most awesome Christmas ever," she said, staring at her family, and then the presents she'd piled into a fort around her.

"I think so too," Bucky agreed quietly, leaning over the wall of her impervious fortress and reaching out for her hand. Emma took it without preamble, giving it a little squeeze. "So I heard you kissed the arrogant twig. What's up with that?"

"I wanted to. Problem with that?" she asked with a smile his way. Bucky bit his lip in thought.

"Lil' bit. Him being an arrogant twig and all."

"Eh, I like him." Bucky hummed.

"Yeah, I saw that. You're pretty cute when you have a crush on someone."

"A _crush_? Excuse you. I do not have a crush."

"So you kissed him for fun?"

"Oh so people didn't kiss for fun back in the day, old man?"

"I'm not an old man."

"Yes you are. You even pinch cheeks like an old man." To prove her point, Bucky pinched her cheek, and she squealed.

"Shut up."

"You shut up!" Emma giggled.

"Stop arguing, children," Tony said in his parent voice, and Peter laughed his joyous baby laugh as he patted his father's face.

"Yes mom," Bucky said with a smirk.

\---


	56. Best Friends And Ice Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you loyal mother-truckers!  
> Sweet chili Jesus, this chapter is pretty bad, but at least it's something! I've been in such a slump, and in the wise words of Dr. Seuss, "un-slumping yourself is not easily done". I just wanted to get something up here so you guys know that the story will go on! I promise!  
> I might be able to get another chapter up pretty soon, I really hope I will, even if I'm still in a slump. I just want to give you guys good content.  
> Thank you for sticking with me!  
> Enjoy the long-awaited read! <3

 

"Whatcha doing?" came Darcy's voice from behind him. Bucky looked up from his book. Darcy was standing in the doorway to his, and currently their, room, her arms crossed over her chest and her head tilted a little to the side. She was wearing her glasses, her hair swept up into a mess on the top of her head. She was wearing his shirt, _his shirt_ , and her own purple sweatpants. She looked beautiful. 

The shirt. The green one he wore so much Emma wanted to light it on fire, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in it. 

"Reading," he replied, his mouth feeling dry. "What's it look like?"

Darcy shrugged and plopped down next to him on the couch. 

"Mind if I turn on the tv?" she asked. He shook his head as she grabbed the remote, and grabbed his real arm, slinging it over her shoulders and pulling up her knees to swing them over his thighs.

Basically, she'd just stolen his breath. 

He forced himself to start taking even breaths again as she rubbed her cheek against his collarbone, resting her forehead to his throat.

"This okay?" she asked. God, she was always so _careful_ , never wanted to make him feel uncomfortable or tread on his toes. Their so called relationship was filled with barriers Bucky put up just by existing, and he felt guilty about it, for the first time since he came more or less to his right mind, he felt so _guilty_.

Darcy deserved someone whole, someone who wasn't broken and shattered and holding themselves together with the help of a thirteen year old who patted his face and hugged him. He should be stronger than that, stronger for Darcy.

Bucky was so selfish. He kept her close to him because he wanted to, Darcy made him feel strangely content with where he was and who he was. Darcy said he was worth it, that what she got from him was as much worth as what she gave to him.

He didn't believe her, but if Darcy and Emma, the two women who was the world to him, said he deserved the love he got, what else could he do but believe them?

"Very okay," he replied quietly. "You're amazing."

Darcy laughed and looked up at him, smiling beautifully.

"You keep saying that," she remarked, and his metal hand dropped the book, reaching up to cup her cheek. 

"Because it's true," he replied, relishing in the way her eyes closed as his metal thumb circled her lips. She enclosed her lips around it, and locked their eyes together.

Suddenly his body felt hot, a familiar heat gathering low in the pit of his stomach. Darcy's eyelids fluttered as he pulled his thumb loose with a quiet pop. She swallowed, and reached forward, kissing him tentatively, asking a silent question.

Their physical relationship was... Over the clothes. They kissed fairly often, and on a few occasions, when Bucky had let his control slip, he'd pinned her to a wall and had her beautiful legs wrapped around his waist before he'd come back to his senses.

He couldn't let his control slip. Not with Darcy. He feared losing control around her. She had no powers to protect her, no super strength. Darcy was one hundred percent normal, and sometimes it horrified him, because her bones were breakable and he had a metal hand and enough PTSD to last him three lifetimes. Darcy wasn't safe when Bucky lost control, but _God_ , was she good at making him slip.

His metal hand cradled her head as their kisses turned greedier, breathier, and when had she even gotten on top of him? Darcy was probably magical. That was the only reasonable explanation he could think of right now. 

Her thighs framed his hips, and her left hand slid over his stomach, fingers tracing the ridges underneath his shirt, and rested over his heart, her right hand clutching his shoulder. Darcy's tongue was sliding together with his, making him dizzy as both of Bucky's hands came to rest on her hips.

Darcy detached her lips from his, only to move on to kissing his jaw, his neck, biting gently on his pulse point. 

"Fuck," Bucky growled, pushing his hips up to meet Darcy's instinctively, reveling in the moan it drew from her throat as she ground down on him. He cursed in Russian as she sucked on his right collarbone. "We gotta stop," he breathed, and Darcy pulled back, tilting her head.

"This not doing it for you?" she asked gently. 

"It is," Bucky swallowed, focusing on getting his breathing back to normal. "That's the problem."

Darcy raised an eyebrow. 

"How is that a problem? I mean, I get the whole 'can't hide a boner' thing guys have going on, but that's kinda the opposite of the reason that we're doing this. I want you to _not_ hide your boner." Bucky brought his real hand up to rub his eyes.

"It's- It ain't that, Darcy," he said, his lips twitching into a small smile. 

"Then what's the problem?" Darcy asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern as her fingertips grazed his cheek.

"I can't."

"It looks like you can," Darcy pointed out. She ground against him a little, and Bucky closed his eyes at the glorious friction. "Feels like you can."

"I'll hurt you."

"No you won't."

"I'll lose control and I'll hurt you, and I won't be able to live with myself if I hurt you. So I can't," Bucky replied, looking anywhere but at Darcy's face.

"This is about you not trusting yourself?" Darcy clarified. Bucky didn't answer, and that was a reply all on its own. She grabbed his chin, and turned his head. "Look at me." Reluctantly, Bucky met her eyes. "You're not going to hurt me."

"I don't want to, but I will. It's not a question of if, but when. I'm going to snap, and when I do, I don't want you to be near me, because I've done some fucking horrible things and I know that, and I can't redeem myself for all that shit. But I'm not gonna add hurting you to the list of things I regret."

Darcy looked at him thoughtfully, and then slid off his lap, a fierce burn of determination shining in her eyes. 

"Okay," she said simply, and started walking towards the elevator. 

"Darcy," Bucky called after her, turning around to look at her. "What're you gonna do?"

"Nothing," she said innocently. His eyes narrowed.

"Does it have anything to do with Stark or Barton?" She smiled at him.

"No," she promised. "I'm gonna go chat with Steve." He narrowed his eyes further. 

"I got my eyes on you, Lewis."

"Good. I like when your eyes are on me. Especially here, here and here," she said, pointing to selected areas on her body. Bucky swallowed dryly.

"Right." She skipped into the elevator, and Bucky took a deep breath before he picked his book back up again. 

Darcy Lewis was going to be the death of him.

\---

When Emma woke up the next morning, it was with trembling hands and a heavy feeling in her body, like something was really wrong. She took some deep breaths, like Bruce had taught her, but everything still felt wrong and out of place and just generally horribly horribly wrong. She considered getting out of bed and when she tried, she slid onto the floor rather than stood up. Her knees trembled too much. 

"Jarvis?" she asked in a small voice. "Where's mom and dad?" 

"The two agents were called down to Shield thirty-five minutes ago and left the tower twenty-five minutes ago. Would you like for me to call them, miss?" Emma shook her head and curled up a little. 

"Where's Bucky?"

"Sergeant Barnes is in his quarters."

"Make him come up here," she said, swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat. Whoa. Where did that come from?

Shit. She was having a meltdown again. Well wasn't that just fucking swell. Emma sniffled and hugged her knees as her hands trembled. She was sure Jarvis was saying something, but there was a buzzing in her head which made her tune the other voices around her out, like twenty bees were buzzing around her ears. It was strange, really. She wondered why this was happening right now.

"-the matter, doll?"

Bucky's voice was heard through the fog that was the noise, and she blinked him into view. He was sitting down in front of her, a wrinkle in between his eyebrows and his hair up in a colorful scrunchie. His metal hand reached out to stroke her hair gently, and Emma hiccuped. 

"Somethin' happen?" he asked, and she shook her head, sniffled.

"Everything just hurts," she whispered, and he nodded.

"Yeah, alright. C'mere." Emma uncurled her hurting limbs and climbed into Bucky's lap, sniffling into his shirt as his arms came to wrap around her. "You're good. We're safe," he murmured into her hair, and she hugged him just a little tighter. 

They sat like that for a while, just hugging, or in Emma's case, clinging on like her life depended on it. A long while, probably, until Emma became aware of her un-pancaked situation when her stomach growled. She still felt uneasy in her skin, but Bucky was warm and smelled nicer than her bed did. She should probably change the sheets.

"'M hungry," she mumbled into Bucky's torso. He nodded, his nose still buried in her hair.

"Wanna hunt for food? I think Stevie'll make you chocolate chip pancakes if you ask nicely. That sound good to you?" Emma nodded. "You need to get up for that, then." She shook her head. "No? Don't wanna let go of me?" She shook her head again. "Want me to carry you like a little kid?"

"Yes please," she whispered, and he internally shrugged, because why not? The kid was obviously distressed as hell, and he wasn't about to ditch Emma when she was like this. He stood up with no difficulty, getting her to wrap her arms around his neck rather than his ribs, and grabbed Thor's cape that was hers now, connecting it to her tee-shirt covered shoulders. It draped around her like a blanket, and so he tucked her into it. 

They made their way into the kitchen, where Steve and Tony were, along with Peter. They looked like the typical family, Tony sipping coffee as he fixed his tie, he was in full suit mode today, and Steve sitting by the kitchen table, feeding Peter small pieces of pancake as he spoke distantly to his fiance. 

They both looked up at Bucky and Emma when they came in, and their smiles dropped a little.

"Hey Em," Tony said, pretty gently considering it didn't look like his second cup of coffee. Emma only curled up tighter in Bucky's arms. 

"Bad morning?" Steve asked, and Bucky nodded, leaning his cheek against Emma's. 

"Any pancakes left?" Steve shook his head.

"I can make more."

"Chocolate chip," Bucky said as he sat himself down by the kitchen table. Steve shot Emma a worried look but got up to make pancakes. Tony took his place next to Peter, his dark eyes sliding over Emma's form. He looked worried. "What's with the suit?" Bucky asked, to distract them. 

"Board meetings," Tony replied. "Boring adult stuff that has nothing to do with tinkering or explosions or fires. All day, meetings left and right. Makes me itch all over."

"But you like messing with the board and proving them wrong," Steve pointed out from the stove.

"Ah, that's why I love you, Steve, you bring out the best in horrible horrible situations."

"You've done this before Tony, you know how to juggle the board," Steve smiled, rolling his eyes. 

"I do, I do, but they think they're so smart. Did I even hire them to be smart?"

"Yes? At least I hope you did."

"I didn't even hire them! Howard did! And I mean, most of them are Pepper approved, but they're so stupid sometimes. I can't believe they run my company."

"Pepper runs your company," Steve pointed out as he set down a plate with pancakes in front of Emma and Bucky. Bucky nodded a thanks, and got a grim smile from Steve back. 

"Well, I'm off," Tony said before draining his cup of coffee, giving Steve a passionate kiss, and getting a pat on his cheek from Peter. "I'll be home by dinner!" he called as he strode confidently into the elevator.

"No you won't! Another meeting at nine," Steve said affectionately.

"Right. Goddammit. Love you!"

"Love you too!" Steve called back as he hefted Peter out of his chair, earning a squeal from the little boy. "It's bath time for Petey. I'll be upstairs if you need anything."

Bucky nodded, and waited until Steve had left too before shrugging his shoulder where Emma's head lay.

"Eat," he said gruffly, as he looked down on Emma's red-rimmed eyes. She swallowed and turned around in his lap slowly, pulling the cape around her tightly. Bucky carded through her hair distantly as he made her eat all the pancakes, even though she protested mildly. 

When Emma was done eating, she curled back up, and Bucky sighed into her hair.

"Just one of those days, huh, doll?" She nodded into his shirt, and he curled his arm tighter around her. "Want to go up to the roof?"

She made no response for a moment, but then he felt another tiny nod into his shirt. 

He grabbed a hat and gloves for her, and managed to get a jacket onto himself. She allowed him to set her down long enough to wrestle her into a coat too. He wasn't about to have Natasha on his ass about getting her daughter sick, yet again.

The trip up to the roof was uneventful, and once they got up there, he swept some snow off one of the ledges, and made her sit down next to him.

New York City was white around them, lights flashing and cars rushing by like little toys underneath them. 

"It's pretty," Emma suddenly said, the silence between them finally ending. 

"The snow?" Bucky asked. Emma shook her head.

"Well, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about."

"The city?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Last time I saw a big town like New York was before Turbo Crotch and his crew. With the circus. Really early on too. We went to perform in Washington D.C. I remember playing in the grass with the acrobats. I finally learned how to do a backflip in D.C. And a handstand. I used to like the country side and the small towns but after D.C. and all their beautiful buildings? I didn't think it was that amazing anymore."

"You gotta learn to see the beauty in everything," he said with a light shrug. Emma blinked.

"That's deep, man. Where did that come from?" she asked with a light laugh, short but sweet and exactly what Bucky wanted to hear.

"Read it online."

That earned him another short laugh.

"You're getting so high tech. Soon you'll be digging through memes and being like 'I can haz Darcy'. Christ. We better activate parental controls on your computer before you find Facebook."

"Facebook?" Bucky questioned, glad to make a small smile appear on Emma's lips.

"You don't wanna know," she assured him with a light pat on the thigh. They sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching their breath fog.

"Feeling any better?" he asked. Emma took a deep breath, feeling the cold air in her lungs, and nodded a little.

"Yeah. A little bit. Air is nice."

"It is," he said quietly. "But it's cold."

"Yeah."

"Then inside we go. Don't want your parents hurting me 'cause I got you sick again."

"My nose isn't even cold yet," Emma protested, but slid off the ledge obediently.

"Yes it is, it's all red," he scoffed and herded her into the elevator. "Is the dog in the tower?"

"Lucky?"

"Yeah."

"I think so."

"Good."

"Why?"

"We're gonna use him for a space heater and watch cartoons," he decided, and Emma gave him a real smile, one that made her eyes sparkle.

"We are?"

"Yes."

They did just that, grabbing Lucky and building a pretty okay nest in the living room by the tv, and making hot chocolate and grabbing Oreos. Emma was petting Lucky absently as Bucky got out of the nest. Immediately, a hand shot out to grab his leg.

"Where are you going?" Emma asked quickly, looking up at him with wide, panic-stricken eyes, like she was horrified that he was gonna leave her forever and ever.

"Gotta take a leak," he answered. Slowly, her hand loosened on his calf, and he snuck into the bathroom. As soon as the door was closed, Bucky took out his phone.

Clint answered after six signals. Bucky was just about to give up.

"Barton," he said, his voice more robot-y than normal. More Agent Barton than Clint the jovial asshole.

"It's Bucky," Bucky said.

"Oh hey man, what's up? What's the 411? What's the hot gossip?"

"Why are you quoting Mean Girls?" That earned a startled laugh from Clint's side of the call.

"I love my daughter so much for making you watch so many movies."

"Speaking of, Emma's not feeling good," Bucky said conversationally. Clint's heart stopped for a beat.

"'Not good' as in seriously bleeding or..."

"'Not good' as in hurting somehow. Think it's more of a mental ache than anything," he said. "Just thought you should know."

"Yeah, thanks Buck," Clint sighed. "Keep us updated."

"Sure," he said quietly. "I made her eat pancakes this morning, so she's at least fed."

"Oh great," Clint said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm glad she's got you."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty glad to have her."

"She's a pretty damn amazing kid, huh?" Clint grinned.

"Yeah," Bucky agreed. "Pretty damn amazing."

"Bucky?" came Emma's call from the other side of the door. He covered the receiver.

"What?" he called back.

"Wanna watch Under the Dome next?" she asked loudly.

"The hell's that?"

"It's a show about a town that's suddenly trapped underneath a dome. The fuck's it sound like?" Bucky grinned despite himself, and saw something move in the corner of his eye. He breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed it was just him in the mirror.

His hair was up, his shirt tear-stained at one shoulder, but his eyes didn't have the same tired, glassy look they used to have. His face was smooth, he'd shaved earlier this morning after his early ass morning run with Steve and Sam. He felt good, very surprisingly, his shoulders not drawn tight with tension and his body sated and fed.

This was all Emma's work. Bucky had despised the fact that he'd been broken by a child a few months back, but really, Emma wasn't just a child. She was the reason he was who he was. She was his best friend. Nothing wrong with getting taught how to be yourself again by your best friend.

"Sounds good, I'll be right out," he called back, and hung up on Clint before flushing the toilet and walking back out.

He was going to make his best friend feel better.

\---

Emma was feeling a lot better by the time Clint and Natasha got home. Clint still coddled her like she was a wounded animal, running down to the store to get her favorite snacks and fixing the nest before digging himself into it as well.

Natasha was spread out on the couch behind them, running her hands through Clint's hair and dragging his head back to kiss him at an odd angle once in a while. She had worn the arrow necklace to Shield, and Fury had noticed it, but hadn't said a thing. It made her suspicious, but also wary.

Fury had also given them a mission, a quick undercover op that wouldn't take more than a week and a half, if they played their cards right. That meant that they would be gone over New Years, and they weren't sure how to break it to Emma. They had told Tony and Steve, who were kind enough to offer any and all help with their daughter. 

"We need to have a chat, возлюбленный," Natasha said as she slid down next to Emma, giving Clint a look that made him wrap an arm around the smaller redhead's shoulders. Her eyes widened. 

"What's wrong?"

"We've been given a mission," Clint said softly. "We have to leave tomorrow."

"But," Emma said, her head snapping in between her parents. "How long will you be gone?"

"One and a half, maybe two weeks," Natasha replied gently. Emma blinked twice.

"But that means you won't be home for New Years. You can't just be gone over New Years!"

"It's our job, sweetie, we have to work like you have to go to school," Clint sighed. "I know it sucks, I think it sucks too, and we're both really sorry, but you'll still have the others."

"No I won't! Everyone has a boyfriend or girlfriend to hang out with, and Bruce isn't even spending New Years with us, because of some stupid conference in Australia that starts January second, so I'll be the odd one out," she huffed.

"You're not the odd one out, darling, what could ever have made you think that?" Clint asked, baffled at the sudden outburst. "Nobody is going to leave you all alone just because we're not here. I even bet Bucky'll kiss you at midnight."

"He doesn't even know that's a thing. _I_ didn't even know that was a thing. Is that a thing?" Natasha rolled her eyes.

"It's an American thing," she explained.

"Oh. Well, I still doubt that," Emma huffed.

"At least we're not going on a long undercover mission," Clint commented. "That could take months." Emma looked horrified at the prospect. "We're not. Relax."

"I won't even get to call you?" she asked meekly. Natasha ran a hand through Emma's copper locks.

"We're sorry," she offered, but it wasn't enough and Emma's shoulders slumped a little in defeat. "Maybe we can give you a quick call tomorrow, before we go away?"

Goddammit, Emma makes Natasha so weak, afraid to disappoint and hurt. She didn't use to be like this. Then again, the one bright thing she used to have in her life was her job, which wasn't all that bright, and Clint. And then the Avengers came along, and made everything a little better. Tony is a stubborn annoying asshole, but he cares so deeply that it hurts him, and Bruce is shy but gives the solid wise advice of a grandmother, and Thor is big and loud and so loyal to them, as if they were related by blood and not just by being odd. Steve is strong and solid and so good that it surprises her sometimes, and they're all idiots that she treasures. 

It's not like another team of agents, a sense of camaraderie and a grim feeling that some of you might not make it out alive. This team was messy, coordinated in their ways, and in sync with each other. A family. Natasha is still startled that she thinks of the Avengers as her family.

Emma nodded silently and curled up underneath Clint's arm.

"You better call me," she muttered a little petulantly.

\---

The two agents left early the next day, kissing a sleepy Emma goodbye before disappearing. Emma was still in Clint's bed, in the state between awake and asleep, when Bucky opened the door, and fell down on the bed next to her. She peered at him through slitted eyes.

"What's the matter?" she asked, and Bucky only groaned and wiggled a little, that was the only way for Emma to describe it in her head anyway, even though Bucky would rather be dead than _wiggle_. His face was smushed into Clint's thick covers.

"You're going away today to be with your friends," he complained into the covers, and Emma grinned, wide and sunny. 

"Gonna miss me?" she teased as she watched his metallic arm come up to swat after her. She skillfully dodged it and trapped it underneath her torso, even though she knew she wasn't really trapping it. Bucky could swat her away as easy as a fly if he wanted to. 

"Shut up."

"Oh, the burning comebacks! Who peed in your coffee today?" He looked up at her suspiciously, the brightly colored scrunchie on his real arm making him look a lot less dangerous. "It's an expression. If someone peed in the coffee, they would probably be killed for contaminating the life source of almost all the Avengers. But, if we ran out of pop tarts, that would just be... Absolutely horrible. Someone would die. Multiple people probably."

He stayed quiet but shook his head in disbelief as he buried his face in the covers again. 

"It's not like I'm going away for months. Just a day. You feeling okay?" she asked, her eyebrows immediately furrowing in worry. 

"I feel fine. That's the problem."

"How is that _ever_ a problem?"

"Darcy is making me feel things," he explained, turning his head towards her. 

"That's a good thing."

"She's making me feel bad things."

"Say the word and I'll punch her," Emma said, her eyes narrowing. Bucky smiled, a smile wide enough that made crinkles appear by his eyes. It made Emma's chest puff with pride that Bucky was being so open and showing so much. 

"You'd defend me like that? I'm so flattered."

"'Course I would, my beloved maiden," Emma said and patted his head affectionately. "I mean, I love Darcy, but I love you more. But if she isn't being mean to you and I don't have to punch her, how is she making you feel bad things?"

"Sexual things."

"Gross."

"Yeah."

Emma shrugged.

"Well I mean, I'm not a very experienced seducer, but don't you want to have sex with Darcy? Isn't that what most people do in a relationship?"

"She isn't pushing me to do anything."

"But... You do want to."

"...Yes."

"So? What's stopping you?" Emma asked, rolling out from the covers and straddling his back. She began to braid strands of his hair together, something that was getting easier as his hair grew even longer. 

"I might hurt her." Emma hummed thoughtfully.

"Isn't sex kind of like sparring and like, wrestling?" she asked. Bucky snickered into the mattress as she wrestled the scrunchie from his wrist and began tying the braid up.

"Kinda."

"Well I've seen you and Natasha and you and Clint and you and Steve sparr. You know how to not hurt people," she pointed out. "You know how to contain your strength."

"Darcy is different."

"Right. Obviously. Hang on a second, isn't Steve as strong as you are?" She grabbed another few strands of his hair, began to twine them together into an asgardian braid Thor had taught her. Bucky waved his hand in a so-so motion, and Emma nodded absently. "I really don't think you have anything to worry about then. If one super soldier can keep his strength in check, I really don't see why the other one wouldn't be able to."

"But Steve is better," Bucky protested. Emma's ministrations with his hair stopped.

"Hey. Look at me," she said suddenly, and he turned his head around at an awkward angle. Emma placed both her hands on his cheeks and made him meet her eyes. "Steve is not better. You are _enough_. You are _good enough._ Always remember that."

"But I-" he began, and Emma cut him off with a sharp -tt- noise that sounded suspiciously a lot like Damian's tsking noise. 

"You were brainwashed," she said, squishing his cheeks on the last word, as if to force the thought into his mind. Or possibly his face. "You were _brainwashed_. You didn't know what you were doing. People were saying your actions were the right actions and you didn't know what else to do because you were brainwashed. Blaming you for all that you were forced to do, it-it's like blaming the people who were forced into prostitution when you really should be blaming the people who forced them to become prostitutes. You didn't consciously do all that shit, and _you are good enough_." She squished his cheeks. "You can totally hold in your strength. You can do it. I believe in you. Always will."

Bucky gaped at her in silence, and Emma leaned forward to kiss his forehead. 

"I have to get up and eat and dress, but you should give that some thought," she said then, patting the top of his head and jumping off him, walking leisurely out of the room.

\---

After a healthy breakfast, consisting of poptarts and hot chocolate, Steve walked her to Rockefeller, making her put on at least three layers of clothing and a pair of thick mittens and a hat. The only reason she wasn't wrapped in another layer and a scarf, was because Bruce asked Steve, very kindly, if he would like to borrow some of Bruce's bubble wrap to keep Emma extra warm and safe. 

Emma really loves Bruce, even though he's ditching them for a conference.

As they approached the center, she noticed Layla's pink hat from a dozen yards away, standing by the ice skating rink right by Rockefeller that Emma didn't even know existed until Layla asked her to go skating with her there. Steve and Emma were only a few minutes late, due to an incident involving Peter getting stuck in the ceiling, _again_. Emma kissed Steve's cheek in thanks when he leaned down.

"Text someone when you want to be picked up," he said, fixing her hat distantly, because Steve wasn't overprotective as much as he was overly affectionate. 

"But not Tony, right?"

"I'd say no, because I love him, but I'm pretty sure he paid for his license and didn't actually learn how to drive," Steve said kindly, and she nodded.

"Understandable. Have fun with Sam!" she said as she started walking backwards. He smiled and waved.

"Have fun with your friends!" Emma was further away when she heard him call "And be safe!" after her as well.

The snow was still pretty thick, about ten inches of white fluff in the gutters by the sidewalk, but on the cracked stones of the actual sidewalk, grey sludge resided, and Emma skipped through it happily. She was feeling great today, still a little disappointed that Clint and Natasha were gone and the general worry that came with having super agents for parents, but otherwise great.

"If she doesn't show up, I'm going to shove my skates down her-" Layla seethed as Emma came into hearing range, her back turned to the redhead, and Emma burst out laughing.

"Geeze, Layla, bloodthirsty much?" she asked as she bumped her shoulder into her friend's. Layla narrowed her blue eyes at her.

"I take my ice skating very seriously," she told her sternly.

"Seems that way. Well, no need to shove your skates down anywhere. Let's go!" Emma smiled.

They chatted happily about Christmas for a while, TJ had apparently gotten a new phone since his last one had been buried in sand by his triplet little brothers, and then rained upon, and Layla had gotten a box of nailpolish and Hope a ton of new books and a beautiful sweater in dark blue that she loved endlessly.

"I'm going to paint your nails next time we have a sleepover, and I'm going to paint your nails, and _yours_ , and there is no way you're getting out of it," Layla said, pointing to each and every one of them pointedly. TJ shrugged.

"Okay. Do you have any really red colors?" he asked.

"I want purple," Emma said.

"I want green!" said Hope happily.

"I think I have something for all of you," she assured them.

They moved on into the place where they let you rent skates when Layla got too impatient. She had her own pair of white, slim ones slung over her shoulder in a very clichéd way, but waited patiently for everyone else to get their shit together before she began tying her own efficiently.

"Excited about the new year coming up?" Hope asked as she helped Emma tie her skates, pulling hard enough for Emma to yelp. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Emma mumbled, shocked that Hope had that kind of strength. "I'm actually pretty excited about the year. But my parents are gone on a business trip and won't be home for a while, so they won't spend New Years with me."

"What about your hot best friend?" Layla asked, sounding distracted.

"He has a girlfriend," Emma pointed out for what felt like the bajilionth time. Layla gave her a look and a sigh.

"I know. I was asking about what he was doing for New Years, darling."

"Oh. Well, same as me. Celebrating with the family, eating fancy food and dressing up. And with his _girlfriend_."

"Stop rubbing it in!" Layla complained as they all walked together toward the ice.

"Okay but," Emma said, stopping abruptly as Layla stepped out onto the ice effortlessly. Tj stumbled into her, and Hope walked into TJ, sending them all wobbling on the blades on their feet.

"Jesus," TJ gasped as he gripped the rink to steady himself.

"I can't ice skate," Emma protested as Layla gripped her hands tightly.

"Oh, really? Well that's okay, it's easy," Layla said dismissively as she lead Emma out onto the ice.

"Don't listen to her, she's made of sugar and _evil_ ," Hope said as she took three steps out on the ice and promptly slipped and fell on her ass. She groaned from the ground.

"Layla was the district champion of figure skating like last year," TJ said as he slowly stepped onto the ice, still holding onto the rink. He remained standing for long enough to help Hope up. Emma gave Layla a wide-eyed look, and she grinned back. 

"Layla..." Emma said slowly as her friend effortlessly skated backwards. 

"Yes?" she said innocently.

"Sugar and evil!" Hope called after them, nodding to herself.

"Well, you're not wrong," TJ said as they started tentatively moving in the vauge direction of Emma and Layla.

"Come on, you can do it, just take tiny steps," Layla said, grinning from ear to ear.

"You are so evil," Emma whispered as she took many tiny steps forward. Internally, she was cursing herself for ever falling for Layla's sweet smile, because Layla was going to make her fall on her ass any minute now if she let go of her hands. Emma didn't know how to steer this damn ship, so if Layla let go for as much as a second, she was going to drop to her ass and stay there. 

Layla started turning, and Emma skidded a little, screeching as she did so, but the blonde girl was relentless, turning them around in a full circle before slowing to a stop. Then she dropped Emma's hands.

"There. You know how to do it. It's like running. But on ice. With blades underneath your feet. Small steps," Layla said as she started sliding backwards.

"Don't you dare leave me here! If you strand me in the middle of this visible place in hell made of ice, I will come into your room when you sleep and cut all your hair off!" Emma yelled as her arms shot out to balance herself.

Layla giggled as she leisurely started skating in circles around her agitated friend.

"You know, I would totally have left if that didn't sound like something you could and would do to take your revenge," she said.

"Oh, stop looking like you were born with skates on your itty bitty feet," Emma grunted as Layla deliberately swung a leg up, holding onto her leg as she did a graceful spin.

"Sometimes I think I was?" she said thoughtfully as she spun again. On the other side of the rink, Hope landed on her butt again.

"I would feel bad for your mother if you were," came a very familiar and sudden voice, and Emma immediately slipped and fell onto the hard ice, front first.

"Ouchie," she grunted as she stared at her mittens, pain radiating up her arms from the impact.

"Need a hand?" came Damian's voice from above her. 

"I loathe people who can ice skate," Emma declared, and Layla snickered.

"It takes a little time to learn, Em, you can't be amazing at everything all at once," she said very seriously. Then she slid to a stop by Damian. "Hey, I thought you weren't coming?"

"Grayson forced me," he replied as he helped Emma onto her feet.

"Oh, yes, I can imagine, how _horrible_ that you have to spend _time_ with your friends. _Dreadful_!" Emma said dramatically, and Damian smirked at her, looking more well rested than usual. His hair was yet again covered by a green hat, and he was in his coat, black, expensive skates tied neatly onto his feet.

"I was planning to spend the day inside, seeing as I thought I was grounded," he said. "Then Grayson and father ended up in a yelling match, and here I am. I have also been told to extend an invitation for New Years."

"Yes! Sleepover!" Layla squealed happily and fist pumped in the air, dashing off over the ice to make another spin, faster this time. 

"Essentially," Damian said with a smirk. He was still holding Emma's hands, and she huffed. "Having some trouble?"

"In my defense, I've never ice skated before, so seeing as this is my first time ever, I think I'm doing a swell job," she said. He began sliding backwards, leading her as Layla had before. "Of course you know how to skate," she sighed.

"I'm quite good at it too," he grinned. "Grayson taught me how to."

"You and your overly athletic brothers," Emma groaned as she started taking strides along with Damian.

"Stop whining, you're doing fine," he said, as dismissively as Layla had earlier.

"Sleepover?" Hope asked tentatively as she crashed into Damian, only staying upright by grabbing his arm. He didn't even wobble dangerously, the bastard.

"Yes. During New Years. The usual things required. As well as duct tape, make sure your color is different than the others'. Mine will be red and black," he nodded, and Hope hummed in appreciation.

"What do we need that for?" Emma asked curiously. Damian smirked, that dangerous smirk that made Emma's legs even weaker than they were right now. 

"You'll see," Hope grinned too. 

"What is 'the usual', then?" Emma asked, nervous but already excited. A sleepover! She'd never been to a sleepover, let alone in Damian's mansion. 

"Toothbrush, pjs, dresses and or fancy clothing, a pillow, squirt gun, one or two depending on how much you want to get your butt beat by yours truly, charger, baseball glove... What am I missing?" Hope counted.

"Well, duct tape. You may bring snacks if you wish, but Alfred will be making cookies and desert," Damian said. Emma blinked.

"Count me the fuck in!" she exclaimed. "My duct tape will be purple."

"Great," Hope said with a grin. "Sleepovers at Damian's are always the best." Damian puffed a little at the praise.

"I know," he said, the asshole, and Emma wanted to kiss him. Again. 

No butterflies crowded in her stomach, only five really big, confused birds bumping into each other and everything around them as she squeezed the hand Damian was holding. His eyes flickered to her for a brief second and then he was looking at Hope again, who was talking about their use of glitter at the latest slumber party they'd had.

"Pennyworth is still grumbling about that," Damian said, smirking like a little devil. 

"Then how come you get to have another one?" Emma asked. 

"Grayson is good at getting his way," he said, a bit of distaste in his tone.

"Why does Dick want you to have a slumber party then?" 

"Because he thinks I 'need' it. Says I need to 'act my age'." He didn't need to physically make the air-quotes for her to hear them.

"Well, you do act like you're forty rather than thirteen most of the time," Emma pointed out, and Hope agreed. Damian scowled.

"I do not."

"You so do."

"I do n-" Emma shushed him, and in return, he made a sharp turn, which had Hope letting him go and Emma screeching as she clambered to pull closer. He stopped abruptly, and suddenly she was smushed into Damian's coat. 

They both froze suddenly, and Emma stayed as still as she could, waiting for Damian to recover and immediately move away. He was never one for proximity, and he surely wasn't as affectionate as the next person, but they were pressed front to front, and holy shit, was he even _breathing_?

Emma tilted her head up to look at him, finding him looking back down at her.

"Well this is awkward," Emma said out loud, and she immediately wanted to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. Damian stared at her, that same blank glance that he'd worn as he saw her in her gala dress. "Is it the hat? Steve likes his hats."

She wanted to stop talking. She really did. But Damian kept staring, still holding her hands, crushed in between them.

"The hat is fine," he said blankly.

"It is a nice hat," she agreed dumbly. "I like beanies too. You'd look weird in a beanie."

"I have no interest in wearing a beanie," he assured her. Why were they still smushed together again? She glanced down at his lips, and saw him do the same.

"Kiss!" came Layla's shout from the other side of the rink, and Damian recoiled so fast Emma yelled out a curse as she tried to steady herself again.

"Shit, Dami, could you _get_ anymore suspicious?" Emma got out as she finally found her balance.

"Suspicious?" he asked, as if he didn't understand what the word meant.

"Yes, suspicious, you asshole," she repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. "Take my fucking hand or I will pour glitter into your hair."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Damian narrowed his eyes, but grabbed her right hand.

"Try some on your own, come on," he coaxed as she slowly began sliding forward with him beside her.

"This is hard!" she whined.

"Don't whine, just skate," Layla said as she slid by them. Emma mumbled some well-deserved profanity after her.

\---

Darcy cornered him in the elevator as he came up from the gym, standing there when the elevator doors slid open. Bucky choked on a curse as his hand went after a blade, before he noticed it was actually Darcy standing in the semi-darkness of his floor. 

"You're a little terrifying sometimes," he said, and she raised her eyebrow with a smirk.

"Nat is giving me lessons. And Thor has always thought I was terrifying."

"Ah. The tazer," he said, and Darcy smiled, the kind of sharp smile that made Bucky a little nervous as to where this conversation was going.

"I love when you remember details like that."

"I'll keep it in mind." She smiled sweetly at him. "What's the matter? What'd you do?"

"Come here," she said, and he cautiously stepped out of the elevator, followed her to the couch. "Sit."

"I'm sweaty."

"Hot. Sit."

Bucky sat down in the couch. 

"Alright, we're gonna talk about things," Darcy said, putting her hands on her hips

"Actually-" he began, but Darcy made a hushing noise.

"No. I get to talk first. About your superstrength, first of all, so hot, and second of all, I talked to Steve about it and he blushed really cutely but he gave me some tips about it. Personally, I'm really all for rough sex, and I know you're scared of hurting me too bad, so, suggestion. You hold onto the headboard as I ride you, see if you break it. If you don't, _shazam_ , you know how to control your strength. If you do break it, well, less good, but we can work from there. We're two people in this relationship, James. You don't have to deal with this on your own."

Her hands had been flailing around as she spoke but now they settled on her hips, and Bucky just gaped at this wonderful woman who, _somehow_ , didn't feel the need to give up and tell him to fuck off when it got hard. 

"Okay," he said breathlessly. Darcy blinked.

"Wait, did you just say okay? Like, consenting to my ideas and sex?"

"Yes."

"That's a total 180 from a few days ago. What happened?" she asked as she fluidly slid into his lap. His hands automatically settled on her hips, and he finally stopped resisting the urge to slide his hands up under her shirt, resting his hands against pale, soft skin. 

"Emma is made of magic," he explained, and Darcy froze on top of him, staring at him with a mix of trepidation and horror on her angelic face. "Not really. She's not actually made of magic. She's just good at... Being a life coach." Darcy visibly relaxed.

"Shit, you scared me there," she breathed, and rested her forehead against his shoulder. "It's so weird that's even a possibility in my life." He snorted. 

"It must be. Emma being made of magic... Wouldn't that be icing on the damn cake?" he chuckled, and Darcy laughed quietly into the crook of his neck.

"It would," she agreed. He felt her warm puffs of breath against his neck, and he swallowed hard. "So... Want to watch Dog Cops with me?"

Bucky blinked.

"I thought we were gonna have sex?" he questioned, and Darcy kissed him on the mouth, gently.

"You don't schedule sex, it just kind of happens. Also... Dog Cops is on," she said. "All new episodes." This time, Bucky let out a disbelieving chuckle.

"Turn the tv on," he said, and Darcy grinned at him, wide and beautiful, and gave him another kiss, deep and hot, before grabbing the remote and cozying up underneath his arm. He smiled to himself as she began to tell him what happened in the last episode, and he curled his arm tighter around her.

\---

"A slumber party," Clint said, sounding unimpressed. 

"Pleeease!" Emma whined. The two agents were getting ready to leave the aircraft they were on and wouldn't tell Emma where it was, video calling their daughter to let her know they were okay, and Natasha was putting on make up in the background. Clint's hair was darker than it's usual blonde, and he was wearing brown lenses, making him look a lot different. Natasha's eyes were the same, but she had a wig behind her, a blonde one. The archer ran a hand through his hair, and gave Natasha a look. 

"At Damian's place?"

"It's not just gonna be me and him! Layla and Hope and TJ will be there too!"

"Over New Years?" Natasha asked as she righted her wig.

"Yes. Steve can even talk to Dick if it makes you feel any better. You've been there. You know I can kick Damian's ass if that's what you're worried about. Bucky will definitely help me escape at any time. You know that."

"Honey, this is your first sleepover," Natasha said gently. "You won't be able to call us if anything feels wrong because we're on a mission." Emma blinked at that.

"Oh. Right. Well, I can call Steve if there's panic and Bucky if I get scared or something. It wouldn't be the same as calling you guys, but I'll deal with it," she said, looking determined. Clint worried his lower lip. "Plus, it's not like you guys are here to spend New Years with me."

The two agents looked at each other, both feeling a pang of guilt. Clint sighed. 

"What did Steve say?" he asked.

"Steve looked suspicious but relented after Tony talked to him," Emma reported. 

"Stark thinks you should get to go?" Natasha questioned. 

"Yeah, I think he never got to have any sleepovers so he realizes how important they are. Did you have sleepovers when you were small?" Natasha scoffed. 

"I had a lot of sleepovers with Kate before," Clint said with a shrug. "We had lots of fun. Sleepovers are great."

"Isn't Kate like, younger than Natasha?"

"She is. Last time we had a sleepover was like, two months before you came along."

"Seriously? You can have sleepovers when you're an adult?"

"'Course you can," Clint said with a smile. "Kate crashed a lot on my couch a while ago. Usually, Kate and I play games and throw darts. And drink. It's great."

"Oh yeah," Natasha murmured to herself. "You two and your sleepovers. You're both so hungover the next day." Clint made a dismissive noise. 

"How badly do you wanna go?" he asked. 

"Really really badly! I've never been to a sleepover before, pretty pretty please?" Emma pleaded. Natasha and Clint shared another look, their silent communication pretty unclear to bystanders until Natasha huffed. 

"Okay. You can go," she relented, and Emma cheered.

"Yaaaay! Thank you thank you thank you, you're the best!" 

"You can praise our awesomeness when we get home," Clint smiled, and Emma's look turned more serious.

"Be safe," she said.

"We'll try our best, honey," Clint promised. Emma smiled.

"Good. Don't break any legs! I'm gonna go pack," she said excitedly.

"Have fun and be safe," Clint said. Emma hummed.

"Do you have a baseball glove and purple duct tape?"

"In my closet, probably."

"Can I borrow those?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"For the sleepover," Emma said with a raised eyebrow.

"Those are strange things to bring to a sleepover," Natasha remarked.

"At least I'm not bringing sand or glitter," she pointed out. Both agents raised their eyebrows.

"What the hell did we just say yes to?" Clint asked.

"Tons of fun," Emma said with a grin. "We're gonna play hide and seek in his mansion.

"Don't be basic and hide in closets," Clint said with a tut. Emma scoffed.

"Obviously not. I've already scoped out a few places to hide."

"Oh, tell me one."

"In the chandelier in the entrance hall. There are enough steady points to get up there and it would be able to handle my weight."

"Attagirl," Clint smirked. Emma smirked back. 

"I'm sure Damian has noticed too, so I'll have to take it before he does," she said thoughtfully.

"Don't bring any knives," Natasha said distantly as she fixed her eyeliner.

"I'm not gonna stab Damian to get the most desirable hiding spot!"

"I suppose that's good. Hiding bodies is such a tedious thing to do."

"You'd help me hide a body?" Emma asked with a startled laugh. Clint and Natasha gave each other a look.

"We'd give you a real talking-to," Clint said sternly.

"But you'd help me? Wow, you guys are terrifying. I love you," she laughed, and Clint rolled his eyes fondly.

There was a sharp knock at their door, and both Clint and Natasha looked up.

"Showtime," came the muffled sound of Coulson's voice, and Emma looked worried.

"We'll be fine, okay? Have fun with your friends," Clint said soothingly as he straightened his suit jacket and Natasha fixed her dress.

"Okay," Emma said, her voice quiet now, scared.

"Love you," Natasha said.

"Love you too," Emma replied, and Natasha smiled before Clint ended the call.

Emma shrank a little bit in her seat on the couch, when Steve suddenly sat down next to her, putting Peter in her lap. Peter smiled up at her, his baby teeth showing brightly and happily. Emma grinned back and smooshed his cheeks.

"So cute!" she squealed.

"I know," Steve cooed proudly. "They said yes, huh?"

"Yeah. We need to go shopping," she proclaimed.

"Oh? What for?"

"Purple duct tape, some huge-ass squirt guns, a baseball glove for my tiny hands, and a baseball bat while we're at it, because duh, also a new dress, more duct tape in purple, and a sleeping bag. Along with a new toothbrush for Clint and one for me." Steve stared at her for a few seconds.

"I'll go get Tony's black card," he chuckled and got off the couch again.

\---

 


	57. Planes And New Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years! Celebration! Yas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loyal readers!  
> I'm sorry this update is... So... Super... Late...  
> I've been having a pretty bad case of writers block, hence the long wait, but I hope that this will at least be moderately okay. It's super long, for what it's worth!  
> I hope I haven't lost you all due to my absence, we had such a nice thing going on  
> Enjoy! <3

 

The thirty-first of December, Emma woke up in Bucky's bed, laying draped over him like a blanket. Darcy was buried underneath Bucky's left arm, the metal leaving a crease on her bare shoulder. Emma opened one eye to look around her. It took a moment for her sleep addled brain to get where she was and with who, and when she did, she smiled.

Her parents were gone, but Bucky and Darcy were pretty great sleep pals too. 

Emma grabbed Bucky's real hand, warm from resting over Darcy's on Emma's back, and put it on her head instead. He opened his eyes, blue and bleary.

"The hell?" he mumbled. "Oh. Hi." Emma beamed at him.

"Hi." Bucky took in his surroundings, Darcy underneath his arm, and he hugged her a little closer almost distantly, as if he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. Emma patted his face happily at the thought. "I'm excited about the sleepover tonight. Also, you should challenge Thor to a drinking contest. See how drunk you get."

"I don't get drunk," he pointed out, his voice hushed as his blue eyes skittered over the curtains, the opened door. Emma realized he was looking for threats, in the closet with the door ajar and in the dark doorways. Well, at least he wasn't up in moments with a knife aimed at her because she woke him up. Progress! 

"You've never tried, have you?"

"I know I can't get drunk," he said in a monotone, and Emma patted his cheek.

"You should have fun tonight," she said. "You could totally text me anytime though, if it gets boring or something."

"I think I'll manage by myself for a night," he replied, and Emma shrugged. He was silent for a while. "But thanks, doll. You know, I'm supposed to be saying that to _you_."

"Yeah, but I have the same right to be worried," Emma complained. "You're this gorgeous mess on a stick and you hold a special place in my heart. I'm totally allowed to be worried about you."

Bucky smiled and Emma patted his cheeks.

"I'm hungry," she remarked.

"I'm not leavin' the bed yet."

"Come ooon," Emma whined, flopping her head down onto his chest, making him huff. 

"You guys are so fucking cute," came Darcy's voice, muffled by Bucky's skin and with sleep. Both Emma and Bucky turned their heads to look at her, Bucky perplexed and Emma smug.

"I know," she beamed. 

"I'm not cute. Nothin' about me is 'cute'," Bucky protested, and Darcy leaned up to kiss his cheek as he looked almost offended.

"You're cute sometimes, suck it up," Emma said as she threw the covers off her and him. He hissed with the cold, and as Emma found her cape on his hard wood floor, he draped it right back over himself.

"Why so damn chipper?" he asked absentmindedly.

"I'll get to see Damian today! And TJ and Layla and Hope!" she said as she found her socks underneath the cape, attaching it to her shoulders. That's what she loved about Thor's cape, it would attach to almost anything made of fabric or metal. Maybe that was what she loved about magic, rather than just the cape.

"Right. Damian," Bucky said, his mouth twisting into a thin line of either disapproval or just general unease. Darcy raised an eyebrow at him in question. 

"Hey, suck it up. Damian is... He's not very nice to people, actually, but he's nice to me. I'm gonna talk about him however I want."

"You mean gush," Darcy supplied helpfully.

"You too? Really? You drag your own girlfriend into this? I thought better of you, _James_ ," Emma said with a playful pout. 

"Don't go James-in' me. She began thinkin' it before I even mentioned it."

"It's kinda sad that you discuss the relationship between two thirteen-year-olds," she said with a long suffering sigh. "I feel for you." At Bucky's cute confused expression, she added "It's an expression, Buck."

"We talk about other things," Darcy protested.

"Lots of other things," Bucky agreed as she plastered herself to his front, sliding a mostly naked thigh in between his. 

"Sure," Emma said, tilting her head with a smile before tutting. "I'm going on an adventure! To find breakfast!"

"And then second breakfast?" Bucky suggested, and Emma grinned at him. 

"I taught you well, young padawan. I'll leave you to your cutesy wake up," she called as she swooped out of his bedroom, the cape flowing after her.

"Why do I have to be the padawan?" he called after her. 

"Because I say so!" Bucky snorted in amusement, and Darcy smiled down at him.

"You're cute with Emma," she said.

"'M not cute."

"You are though," Darcy said, giving his lips a sweet kiss. Her dark hair dropped from where it had been resting over her shoulder, and got into his mouth. Though her hair did smell good, it didn't taste as good and he made sputtering noises until he could unwind a hand and pull her hair back, playing with the strands. Darcy smiled at him softly. "You've got a marshmallow fluff center."

"Marshmallow fluff? Sounds like something Emma would eat." Darcy's eyes turned wide.

"You haven't eaten marshmallow fluff? Put on your pants. We're going to the store."

"Just to get the fluff?"

"Yes? I mean, now that you mention it, I'm all for swinging by Starbucks. Maybe some Krispy Kreme. Man, I'm hungry." Bucky smiled carefully as Darcy went on a rant about donuts and bagels and why donuts were so much better, and only stirred from his staring when she gave him a weird look. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Yes," he replied, and kissed her lips gently. "Me." Darcy laughed.

"Emma taught you that one." He agreed with a hum. "What would you do without Emma," Darcy smiled to herself, but Bucky regarded it as a question and spoke without thinking.

"Be nothing, still, I think," he said thoughtfully. Darcy's laughter stilled, and she gave him a soft glance.

"Thank God Emma's here, then."

"I do. Everyday." Her gaze softened impossibly more.

"I don't even feel threatened by your love to her."

"Why should you feel threatened?"

"Because another woman is taking up a shit ton of your love."

"Em isn't a woman," he claimed, and rolled her over on her back, sliding with her until he could lean on his elbows above her. Her fingers distantly traced the creases in his metal arm. 

"She's a woman," Darcy assured him with a smirk. 

"What defines her as a woman?" he asked curiously. 

"She's gotten her period." 

"Oh. That." 

"Bonus points to you for not recoiling in fear or horror or hiding behind Steve. I wonder if you'll flinch if I say it again. _Period_." Bucky raised his eyebrows a little in a 'really?' notion, and Darcy grinned. "I got such a cool boyfriend. Get down here and kiss me."

\---

All the years before this one, the Avengers hosted a huge New Years party for other superheroes and funders and had some journalists over to the mansion where it all took place. Now all of them were pretty sceptical to actually going through with it.

"Bruce doesn't like the crowds," Tony pointed out, with Peter in his arms. "And there's no way in hell we're leaving Peter with some zitty teenager for the night. Who knows what'll happen to him?"

"So should we just... Stay in?" Jane asked tentatively. "I mean, I'm all for that. We could just get wasted on the roof and watch the fireworks."

"You are _not_ getting wasted, you lightweight," Darcy said with a stern look at Jane. Jane blushed.

"I'm not that lightweight!"

"You are," Tony agreed with a smirk. 

"I'm all for stayin' back," Bucky shrugged from behind his cup of joe. The others murmured their agreement. Tony scratched his beard thoughtfully.

"I guess I could just dump the party on the Fantastic Four," he said with a shrug. "That'd piss Reed off."

"And hence make you happy, and make us all happy too, because we can stay home and get drunk!" Darcy cheered. 

"We shall celebrate the new year with lights and explosions and mead!" Thor boomed joyously, and Peter giggled at the sound, making Thor reach out for him. 

Tony let him go to Thor without hesitation, because Peter liked Thor. He thought he was funny, and liked to grab Thor's hair and pull. And Thor, the damn giant, was always so gentle with him, carefully plucked small fingers from his hair when needed and never made Tony's heart leap into his throat with fear as he watched them play.

"Well, that sounds fun. I'll fix the fir-" Tony began.

"No!" everybody else said firmly. Even Bucky shook his head with narrowed eyes from behind his cup, disapproving.

"You tend to get a little..." Steve began carefully, searching for the words.

"Crazy? Go extremely overboard? Burn things up? Remember last year when you made your workshop windows explode because you used frickin' army materials to make 'the ultimate firework'?" Darcy reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes I do," Tony sighed wistfully. "But what if I get Bruce to approve the designs for the fireworks?" 

"If he stays there for the whole process as you actually make the fireworks, then I'm fine with it," Jane said with a smile. "I've worked with you, Tony," she reminded him, "I know your process." Tony sighed dramatically.

"Fine, I'll make _boring_ normal people fireworks," he groaned. 

"Can you make a firework spell 'Darcy' in the sky?" Darcy asked with a sly smile. Tony shrugged.

"Never tried. I like the way you're thinking. Jarvis, give me a blueprint of one of those boring normal people fireworks, please?"

After a little chuckling as Tony set to work, the others went their separate ways, Darcy and Jane were dragging their boyfriends to the mall because a new store had opened up and they needed Bucky and Thor to bond, godammit. 

By the time everyone had cleared out, Emma was fresh out of the shower and had everything packed into one of Clint's duffle bags. She had also stolen one of his t-shirts from Natasha's drawers, and taken a knife with her, aside from the ones hidden in her shoes. She was rearing and ready to go, but there was at least two hours left before she could leave. 

After ten minutes, Emma's good mood was ruined. 

She was horrified at the prospect of sleeping over, because who would wake her up if she had a nightmare? She'd opted against bringing the giraffe Tony had gotten her, because from what she could tell, neither Damian or Hope had any stuffed animals. What if she started screaming or peed herself with fear? It sure as hell wouldn't be the first time. What if they found out just how weird she really was?

She was pacing around in the kitchen when Bruce came up for air, and his tea. 

"Hey," he said as his eyes locked on the tea kettle. 

"Hi," Emma replied, not stopping her pacing for one second, even to look up. Even Bruce could notice that in his tired state. He hadn't slept in a long time now, and Tony had sent him a memo about fireworks that he really should look into very soon, as to avoid destruction. It wasn't that Tony didn't know what he was doing, he just always needed a dramatic flare. In some cases, such as this one, literally.

"What's with the ominous pacing?" Bruce asked curiously. Emma jumped from one tile in the floor to another one, three tiles away.

"I'm stressing out because it's my first sleepover that I've gone to voluntarily and like, totally undrugged," she said distantly. Bruce stopped to stare.

"You need to talk to someone about that," he said softly, and Emma froze with her foot in the air. It took a second longer than usual for her to reply.

"Yeah, no, but thanks for the thought." She put her foot down and skipped over to the next tile.

"Really, Em," Bruce said softly. "It's not good to suppress things."

"I'm not doing any of that," she said with a dismissive wave. "I deal with my issues like everybody else does in this place."

"And that would be?"

"Booze and sex," Emma said in a deadpan, pinning him with an unimpressed gaze. Bruce's eyes widened a little. "I'm kidding. Chill out. I deal with it by playing violent video games and eating apples like they're the heart of my enemies."

"Sounds healthy," Bruce deadpanned back, and Emma smirked.

"At least it isn't drugs."

"Oh, don't even say that, you're going to give me a heart attack," he said with a smile. 

"Aren't you leaving soon?" she asked, glancing at the watch. Bruce nodded.

"I'm taking one of Tony's jets. I was going to fly commercial, but you know how Tony is."

"If he can help you through materialistic shit, he will," she said with a nod. Bruce sipped his tea.

"That's right."

"Hey Bruce?" Emma asked innocently. He squinted a little. Emma was good at sounding innocent, and when she did, it was usually because she wanted something.

"Yes Emma?"

"Can we play violent video games until I go?"

"How about we play Mario Kart instead?"

"That's almost a little too violent for me," Emma said, but Bruce shrugged.

"Take it or leave it."

"You drive a hard bargain," she said with a smirk. "Well, I say fight me!"

"You set it up and I'll finish my tea," Bruce smiled. 

"Get ready to get your ass handed to you by a kid!" Emma exclaimed and dashed into the living room. He smiled as he sipped. She deserved all the childish glee she could get in this life.

She was a lot like her current parents, he realized. Even though hardships beat down on her, and with that he meant _heavily_ , she always got back up. She tried to stay positive and loud and giddy, much like Clint, but possessed the same iron will as Natasha, and always kept pushing through the bad times. 

"Bruce?" Emma called from the living room just as he put his cup down in the sink. 

"Coming!"

\---

"Wh- Bruce!" Tony exclaimed. "You're supposed to be on a _plane_ right now! My plane, specifically!"

Both Bruce and Emma looked up, Bruce with his glasses on a little crooked and doing his thinking face. Tony put his hands on his hips with a look of amusement. 

"What? No, there's three hours..." Bruce fumbled with his watch, and then his eyes went wide. "Crap!"

He practically flew out of the couch, fixing his glasses as he went, grumbling something to Jarvis. 

"I did alert you, Dr. Banner, but You seemed very determined to win the race," came Jarvis' cool voice from the elevator, and Bruce grumbled a little louder. 

"Bye Bruce!" Emma yelled, and heard a grumble back. She smiled at Tony, and flung her arms over the back of the couch. "Hiya. What brings you to my block?"

"I thought it might be time to leave? Y'know. For your sleepover," Tony said with a raised eyebrow, and Emma looked at the one analog watch on the wall that Steve had forced Tony to put up, eyes widening much as Bruce's had. 

"Fucksticks! Now! We're leaving now," Emma exclaimed and jumped over the couch with a freaky, cat-like agility. 

"Got it," Tony said with a smirk as she whirlwinded by him into the kitchen. Bucky was now sitting by the kitchen table, reading a book in Russian and looking relaxed for unknown reasons. Emma gave him a suspicious look. 

"What's up with you?" she asked with a small smile. Bucky looked up, his face blank, but Emma knew him, she saw the way his jaw shifted to stop himself from smiling, and she nearly gasped in delight. 

"Nothin'."

"Doesn't look like 'nothin'. Punk."

"Who you callin' punk, punk?" Emma grinned at him. 

"You," she said cheekily as she pulled her shoes on. 

"Wait! Before we go, and I hate that I have to ask this," Tony said, jacket already on and a hat, hands on his hips. "How many knives do you have on you right now?"

"None!" Emma exclaimed, aghast.

"Two," Bucky said, and she gave him a death glare, until she recounted the number of knives she had on her. One in each shoe, and one hidden by her waist. There was no way he wasn't seeing it. 

She really really loved Bucky. 

"Fine!" Emma exclaimed after a sizzling silence. "I have two knives."

"Hand 'em over," Tony said, holding out his hand. Emma sighed loudly but grabbed the tabs in her shoes, and pulled both switchblades out. "Holy shit, do you even know how to handle these?"

Emma raised an unimpressed eyebrow and grabbed one, flicking it around her hand in a series of complicated movements as Tony stared.

"That's freaky," he declared, and Emma shrugged. 

"I'm Clint and Natasha's kid. What'd you expect?"

"I hoped and prayed that you didn't know even more creepy stuff," he confessed. 

"Well, I already knew how to do that when you took me in," Emma said, and handed the knife back to him. He shook his head in disbelief. 

"You're one weird kid."

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all," Tony assured her. "Nothing wrong with being weird. Come on, let's go."

"Wait," Bucky said, and they both turned around. He tilted his head at Emma. "Not even a goodbye?"

She grinned, and dashed through the room to hug the stuffing out of him, kissing both of his cheeks. 

"Try to have fun tonight, 'kay?" she said quietly.

"Don't stab anyone unless you really need to," Bucky whispered back as he kissed her forehead, and Emma grinned at him again.

"I promise."

"Let's hit the road, Em, come on," Tony said, his impatient fingers tapping on the elevator door.

"Coming," she said as she grabbed her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder.

\---

Tony interrogated her fiercely on the drive there, asking about Layla and Hope and TJ, and most importantly, Damian. 

"Why do you even like him? He seems kind of like an ass," Tony pointed out as the car swerved a little on the road. Emma shrugged.

"He kind of is. He says he hates his brothers fiercely, but he really loves them. At least the oldest one. And Tim, kind of. In his own way."

"Ah. Right. 'Kind of an ass' is your type of friend," he said with a thoughtful hum. Emma opened her mouth to protest. Then closed it.

"Actually, yeah. It is. They're just a lot of fun, you know?"

"Yeah, I do know. I mean, Steve is a shit, even though nobody else but me seems to see it. They think the sun shines out of his ass and that he's amazing and perfect."

"Don't you too?" Emma asked as she gazed out the window, at the thick clouds hanging in the air. Tony took a second to reply. 

"It's kind of why I'm marrying him."

"Right. When is that happening again? I haven't gotten an invitation."

"Summer wedding. The winter is always a shitty time for Steve, and his birthday'll be pretty soon after probably," Tony shrugged. "Plus, if I didn't give Pep at least a few months to organize it all, she'd probably stab me with her heels."

"Aren't you gonna help organize it? It _is_ your wedding," Emma pointed out. 

"My past party planning was never as organized as this. I had a check-list. If there's booze, women, and music, it's a party. Now there's a cake and invitations and what color and just..." he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Then add a twist to it that Steve won't know about?"

"Like what?" Tony asked, curiosity making him look over at her. 

"I dunno. Just something... You."

"There's already going to be booze there," Tony protested. 

"No, shut up, I meant _you_ , not playboy Tony. You can do something super sappy because you're a huge sap, let's be real here, and Steve will love it because it's just _you_ and he loves _you._ Don't make the cake look like a dick, do something really dramatic with it, like use one of Steve's drawings or whatever and get it on the cake."

"That's..." Tony trailed off, his gaze going a little clouded as he thought. "That's actually a little amazing."

"Just a little?" Emma pouted. "I thought it was just plain amazing."

Tony chuckled and used the turn signal to turn up on the road leading to Damian's house. 

The mansion loomed in front of them, a dark atmosphere surrounding it. Emma was used to it by now, and wasn't frightened. Her eyes sought out the windows where she knew the bedrooms were, Dick had his bedroom three doors down from Damian's, and so she saw that the lights were on in his room. The lights in the kitchen were also on, and in the living room closest to the kitchen, where Emma knew there was a fireplace and a huge flat screen tv.

Tony whistled. 

"This place looks like it's been here for decades," he said. 

"Probably has," Emma shrugged, fiddling with the strap on her bag. "Damian's told me it's practically old as dirt."

"Yeesh. Don't stumble on any random golden arcs lying around," he said with a wary expression as he looked up at the mansion. That's when he noticed the fiddling, the way she was clutching her pillow as she laughed at his joke. 

She was probably spooked as hell.

"Hey," Tony said, to get her attention, and she looked at him, fixing her features into something less freaked. "It'll be great. I promise. You'll have tons of fun, and you can always call Steve or Bucky or me or Thor or Jane or Darcy. Any time. We'll come pick you up if you want. Even at like, five am. I'll probably be awake." Emma nodded, a small, scared nod. Tony gave her hair a stroke, like he'd seen Natasha do several times, and Emma relaxed a little into the touch. 

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Oh, don't look so mopey. Chin up. Kick Damian's ass for your dad and me," he said. Emma smiled at him and finally opened the door, swinging her duffle over her shoulder and clinging to her pillow tightly. 

"I'd rather not punch him. Maybe I'll have to kick him out of the chandelier, though," she said thoughtfully. Tony grinned.

"Go get 'em, kiddo. Sleep tight," he said, and she grinned back as she slammed the door closed. He waited until she'd been let into the house, and she gave him a final wave before his black car skidded away, down the dirt road, going back home.

Home.

Emma felt a little pang in her chest until Alfred cleared his throat. 

"May I take your coat, miss?" he asked, and Emma knew exactly how butler-y Alfred could be, and his grandma stare was not a force to be trifled with, so she relented, and dropped the duffle and pillow with a huff. She wrung off her coat and held it out to Alfred, who nodded and folded her jacket neatly. "The others are in the living room."

"Cool, thanks Alfred!" Emma said and picked her things up again, which earned her a tut from the butler that she ran away from. 

Chattering was coming from the living room where she'd seen the lights in, and when Emma turned around the corner, she nearly dropped her bag with a gasp.

Damian was standing on one of the biggest side tables Emma had seen in her life, with Tim, Hope, TJ, and Dick on the left side of said table, with Jason and Layla on the right side. In everybody's hands, were squirt guns, and Damian was holding one in the air.

"The paintings in the entire west wing have been covered for this occasion," Damian said solemnly. 

"What am I missing?" Emma asked with a laugh as she dropped her bag and pillow by a pink bag on the floor. Damian spun around, and gave her a brilliant smirk.

"War," he told her very seriously, and Emma grinned as she brought her squirt guns out of the bag. She heard Hope's sharp intake of breath as she slung one over her shoulder. 

"What teams?"

"Those four, against us four," he said, pointing with his gun, it was all black plastic and he was in sweats and barefooted, along with his brothers. Jason was twirling his fake gun around enough for Emma to suspect strongly that he had a lot of gun experience. Which was kind of creepy, but not unexpected, seeing as Damian had a weapon of choice and knew how to beat the shit out of someone with two sticks. 

"That seems hardly fair," Emma pointed out. "I could take that team down singlehandedly."

"I'll make you eat those words, sister," Hope said and narrowed her eyes at her. Emma grinned as she walked over to stand next to Layla, who gave her a fist bump. 

"What're the rules?" she asked Damian, who was now leaning his gun on his shoulder casually. 

"Right. The war will take place in the west wing only. If you move out of the game area before someone has surrendered or won, you will be disqualified. That means you too, Todd." He glared at Jason as he said it, and Jason only gave him a cocky smirk in return. "There are limited refills in the war area, and when we are out of refills, we must deem a winner. The team that is least soaked wins."

Tim raised his hand.

"Yes, Drake," Damian said boredly. 

"How exactly do you measure soakedness?" he asked.

"There is Kool Aid in a few of the refills. Whoever gets stickiest and most soaked loses."

"I still don't see how you me-" Tim began, but was cut off.

"Who gives a damn, let's play war with the twelve year olds," Jason said with an eyeroll. 

"Thirteen, dickwad," Layla said distractedly, and poked him with her gun. Jason opened his mouth to retort when Emma cleared her throat loudly.

"Shall we?" she asked with a devilish smile at Damian. 

"We certainly shall," he replied, and hopped off the table to lead the way to the west wing. 

They started in different rooms, for some group strategy meetings. The first thing Jason said when they'd closed the door was

"Alright kiddies, I should be the team captain."

"Yeah. No," Emma said with a shake of the head. "I vote me for captain. All for?" Layla raised her hand, and Damian squinted, but raised his as well. "Cool, look at that, democracy. Now, I suggest we match people evenly. Jason, you go after Hope, she'll be a mean one and stop at nothing to get you, but you're bigger so you could totally dodge her. Layla, you go after TJ, he'll be easy for you, I know, but just. Trust me. I'll take Dick, and Damian, you'll take Tim. Of course, these aren't permanent settings, but your main focus should be on your assigned enemies. Got it?"

"Ay ay captain," Layla said, looking a little stunned. 

"It's Ma'm, Lay, we're not on a ship."

"Might as well be, with the way you're bossing around," Jason said, maybe a little petulantly.

"Don't pout, at least you get to go after one of the good ones," Layla grumbled. 

"Come on guys. Let's spread out and hide," Emma said, and opened the door, guns up and ready before she snuck down the hall. She felt Damian coming after her, his steps silent but his breathing normal enough to give him away. 

"Barton," he said quietly, and she stopped in her tracks to give him a quick look, proving that she was listening. "How about a team up?"

"Like attacking one person at the same time?" she whispered back, and he nodded in the dim light of the hallway. Not all lights were on in the west wing, some dimmed and most of them just off to give them all more of a 'hunting ground', so to speak. Emma thought that was great. She liked hiding in dark places, and was good at it too. So was Damian, apparently, because he was blending into the background as she tip toed further.

Suddenly, someone came out from the other room on the other side of the hall, sneaking and hunched. It wasn't Hope, too big to be Hope, but to lanky to be Dick. It had to be Tim. 

It was a little freaky that both Damian and Emma had stopped breathing at the same time. 

And then came the second he noticed them. 

\---

Emma was shrieking with laughter as she, along with Damian, sprayed Hope into a corner, making her splutter as she pumped her gun furiously to be able to shoot more. Damian cackled, and they retreated just in time for Hope to get her gun juiced up and ready to go. 

She got a huge splash in her hair in the short time it took for her to reach the door, but still, it was so cold as it trickled down Emma's neck, that she actually had to make a noise of horror as it slid down under her shirt. 

"Fuck!" came Jason's yell from two doors down, and Emma covered Damian's back as they ran over to check on him.

They'd all lost track of time by now, but there were still refills to be found, and squirt gun war was fucking _amazing_ , in Emma's opinion. Strangely enough, she had even had her ass saved by Jason a couple of times, and they'd soaked Dick together, as well as TJ. 

Tim, however, was the only one who'd been strategic enough to only try and soak Emma once. Then he had her entire team after him, and now he was nowhere to be found. Even Dick confessed to not knowing where he was, so they assumed he'd given up and gotten out of the war zone, but from Damian's suspicious squint, that probably wasn't the case. 

Emma's entire shirt was wet and sticky, and clinging to her skin, and Damian's hair had been slicked back after too much water had made it heavy and made it get in the way, leaving them both fairly wet but not drowned just yet. 

She heard Damian's sharp inhale of breath, and quickly turned around with her (Kool Aid filled) gun aimed and ready.

Jason was soaked to the _bone_. His black t-shirt was licking his torso, and his black sweats were clinging to his skin, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He was also without a gun, and looking as angry as a thousand rattled wasps.

"What the hell happened, man!" Emma exclaimed, and tossed her other gun to him, as he sat up with a death face she'd only seen Damian wear in the corridors of the school as they kicked weird flesh monster butt. 

"Fucking _Tim_ happened," he snarled as he grabbed the gun straight out of the air, and cocked it like it was actually loaded with bullets.

"Okay, whoa. Down boy," Emma said with an eyebrow raise. "Don't get all hot-headed. We'll get him."

"We sure will," Jason said, a calmer, and somehow scarier face passing over him.

"You let Drake get the drop on you?" Damian said with distaste, and Jason aimed the gun at him. 

"I'm not against a little friendly fire," he snarled, "unless you keep your mouth shut."

"Ah calm down, hotshot, you'll regain your honor," Emma said with an eyeroll. Men and their _pride_. 

"Last refill!" came a call from down the hallway that sounded suspiciously like Tim. 

"How loaded are we?" she asked, shaking her gun to hear the water swoosh around. 

"This one's nearly all out," Jason said.

"I refilled recently," Damian said with a determined face as he widened his stance, peeking out of the room, only to tense, and then relax. 

Then Layla came dashing into the room, looking like she was ready to wing her eyeliner and just let shit go _down_. Her hair was up in a ponytail now, and her tank top was wet at the hip, her pink sweats stained in wet blotches here and there. She took one look at the others, and sighed.

"What even happened to you?" she asked, nodding towards Jason.

"Tim caught me off guard. Stole my squirt gun," he replied, a definite snarl in his voice. 

"Yeesh. I caught him by the last refill just a second ago. He looked just about as drenched as you."

"Think we're winning?" Emma asked. Layla shrugged.

"You and Dami attacked Dick pretty hard, right?"

"Hard, yes, but not hard enough," Damian muttered, and tensed where he was staring out the hallway again. With a silent wave, he pointed out into the hallway. 

They all snuck out together, Jason's usually heavy steps light and silent, and watched as the other team did the same. There was a table that had been overturned, and they crouched behind it, watching as the other team moved against the wall, peeking into the rooms with their guns drawn. Hope was dripping onto the floor, and Emma would've high fived Damian if it hadn't made such noise. 

"I say go, we attack from behind," Emma whispered, and all three of her team mates nodded. They waited until TJ lowered his gun, and then Emma whispered "Go."

Simultaneously, all of them jumped over the table, and sprinted the few yards into shooting range, and a fierce battle cry was uttered as the team fight exploded.

When everyone ran out of water, they stood there, panting a little, and Emma's arms ached from all the pumping on her gun, but then she saw that Dick's hair had been swept to the side with sticky Kool Aid, and she just had to laugh, because he looked _ridiculous_. 

Soon enough, all of them were laughing so hard that Jason was wheezing against the wall, and Emma fell over with Layla's arm over her shoulder, which effectively dragged Layla with her, and after that, the laughter faded into giggles, until they were all on the floor, different levels of soaked. 

"So, who won?" TJ asked where he was leaning against the wall next to Jason. 

"Look at Jason," Tim said, and got a death glare from Jason. "I think we won."

"But look at Dick! And Hope! Hope is dripping still," Layla protested, and Hope made a show of grabbing her shirt and wringing water out of it. 

"I consider us the winners," Damian said, tipping his nose up a little like he always did when he sensed a confrontation where he could get his way. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Quite," came Alfred's voice from down the hall. Everyone looked up at him, who was standing there with towels. "Anyone with Kool Aid on them are allowed a shower." It sounded more like a demand, honestly. 

"That'd be me," Jason said, shooting Tim another death glare. 

"And me," Dick said. 

"I'm pretty much just soaked in everything," Hope sighed. 

"I have Kool Aid like, everywhere," Emma said. She glanced at Layla. "I think we can all consider Layla the true winner, teams aside." The blonde smirked, all catlike and gorgeous. 

"Hell yeah, losers," she said and got up, dragging Emma with her.

"I advise that you all get ready for dinner," Alfred said as Jason grabbed a towel from his grasp. Alfred handed one to Tim, and one to Emma, and then Damian came trailing after her, looking thoughtful.

"What?" she asked him. Damian blinked, as if startled that she'd noticed his obvious staring. She was getting a lot better at understanding him when his face went blank and impassive. Damian was really confusing to her, because sometimes he was enraged like a wildfire that couldn't be stopped, and then he was quiet and watching, and then he was smirking and playful and just _frustrating_. 

"Nothing," he said, squinting a little as he looked at her. Emma rolled her eyes and walked a little slower, waiting until the others had walked by, and then she grabbed his wrist, stopping him from walking any further. 

"Dude. You can't just stare at a girl and then say 'nothing' when she asks 'what'. It makes me feel like I have something on my face. Do I?"

"You don't," he assured her, meeting her eyes earnestly. 

"Then what're you looking at?" Emma asked exasperatedly. 

"You," Damian replied, as if it was the stupidest question ever for her to ask. 

"Okay," she said slowly. "Care to specify?"

"You have faint freckles on your nose and a dimple on your left cheek."

"Yeah, uh, I'm well aware. What's so weird about that?"

"It's pretty." She laughed at that. 

"Thanks? I used to have a lot more freckles when I was a kid," she said.

"Yes, seeing as you are naturally redheaded, that's believable. Did you know that it's impossible to be naturally redhead and not have freckles?"

"Now I do," Emma said, absentmindedly sweeping his wet hair upwards like spikes. His gaze followed her hand, and then it dropped to the towel in his hands. 

"Wash up. You may use the bathroom closest to my room," he said, and strode away, and Emma smiled as she skipped to catch up to him.

\---

Borrowing Layla's shampoo had been a mistake. Now her hair smelled like flowers, and not the usual apple scent she'd become so familiar with. But they were dressing up for dinner, it was almost nine o'clock and Emma was absolutely starving. Sadly enough, washing up before dinner was apparently a thing, and so here she was, perched on the edge of the tub in the bathroom that Hope had stolen after the war. 

Layla was drying Emma's hair as Hope slipped into her dress.

"Do you always dress up like this at sleepovers?" she asked curiously. Layla hummed thoughtfully as she curled a hand through the red locks on Emma's head.

"Well, at Damian's sleepovers, yes. It's kind of a tradition. But now it's New Years, so obviously this is more glammy. Hence the dresses. Otherwise, it was more a 'get out of your sweatpants before dinner' kind of deal," she said with a shrug. 

"Do other people do it at other sleepovers?"

"I'm gonna say no," Hope said distantly. 

"Damian's sleepovers are the greatest," Layla said happily. 

"Really? Huh. What color is your dress?" Emma asked thoughtfully as Hope struggled with the zipper. She made a clicking noise with her teeth, and Hope met her eyes in the mirror. "I'll fix it. C'mon."

Obediently, the other redhead backed up and let Emma zip her all the way up. It was a green dress, muted in it's colors and went down past her knees, wide and poofy. It was a pretty dress, and Emma was totally gonna steal that sometime.

"Mine is pink," Layla said. 

"Oh really. Why am I not surprised," Emma said in a monotone, and Layla cuffed her upside the head, which made Emma laugh in return. 

"Why does your hair curl so naturally? I envy you," Layla pouted. 

"I've got some good genes."

"Obviously. Now, let's see your dress," Layla said and let her hair go. Shuffling over to her bag in the corner, she pulled the dress out.

Steve had said that it looked great, but Steve was Steve, and did not live up to the whole 'gay men know fashion well' trope. Tony knew what was what and what was stylish, but Pepper, Pepper was the well of knowledge when it came to what to wear. And Coulson, unsurprisingly, but Coulson was on a mission with her parents, and disturbing Coulson might mean death. 

After three calls to Pepper, Emma was buying the dress.

It was black, down to the ends of her thighs, and if she spun, it swooshed around her like a tutu, and the neckline was respectable but still kind of low, and tight around her waist. It made her feel pretty and that's kind of all that mattered, according to Pepper.

"Oh, fuck, give us others a chance too, you beautiful dumbass," Layla groaned. 

"What? I bet your dress is amazing too, Lay," Emma said, shocked. "Plus, just because I look pretty doesn't mean you don't."

"Who are we kidding anyways? It's not like Damian's gonna notice anything other than you," Hope said as she swept her hair up in a careful bun. 

"True, very true," Layla said as she grabbed her own dress out of the bag, and pulled her shirt off. "How's that going anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Emma asked with an arched eyebrow. 

"Are you and Damian together or not?" Hope asked, arching an eyebrow back. 

"Uh. Not?"

"How is that even possible?" Layla asked as she hopped into her dress. "I swear that's not supposed to be possible."

"What?" Emma asked as she stepped into the dress. 

"Dude. If you don't start dating soon, I might just rip my hair out," Hope said.

"Maybe we both just really want to see you bald, then," she said as she zipped her dress all the way up without difficulty. 

"That's just cruel, I don't have the head shape for being bald." Emma shrugged. 

"We just don't wanna be together currently. So what?" Layla gave Hope a pointed look, and Hope looked just as pointedly back. They shook their heads together. 

"Well, I'm done," Hope said with a shrug. "Coming?" 

"You guys go ahead, I'll be out in a sec," Emma said, and Layla squinted at her, but nodded. 

"Sure. Come downstairs soon," she said as they trailed out of the room. Emma smiled until the door closed. Then she collapsed against the bathroom sink with an exhale. 

"Christ. What are we even?" she murmured to herself before straightening and brushing her hair over her shoulder. 

Layla had curled it beautifully, even though most of it was natural, and it looked really nice. Emma touched it reverently and tilted her head in the mirror. The dress really _was_ pretty, and she had a pair of black boots to match in her bag. 

With a shake of her head, she grabbed her phone off the sink, and dialed Bucky's number.

He answered after two beeps.

"You okay? Want me to pick you up already?" where the first words out of his mouth, and Emma laughed. 

"Nah, Buck, I'm good. Really. We've had a lot of fun. We're gonna have dinner now. Just, uh. Got a little nervous," she replied, and refrained from raking a hand through her hair. 

"'S it one of those fancy dinners?" Bucky asked, sounding vaguely amused. 

"Yeah. I'm even wearing a dress," she said, smoothing out the folds in the skirt. 

"Swanky."

"Hell yeah."

"Did'ya have to punch him yet?"

"Nope. Sorry to disappoint."

"Ah. You'll get him."

"Seriously, you guys need to stop being so protective. I don't need to punch Damian. He's good, alright? I've dealt with a lot worse," she pointed out. There was a beat of silence on Bucky's side of the line, and Emma heard the conversations of various superheroes in the background.

"We don't want you to have to do it again," he said firmly, and Emma hopped up on the sink with a frown.

Yeah, shit, she'd dealt with a lot of... Horrible sexual stuff in her time, but whatever Damian felt towards her, it wasn't sexual. He was almost tentative, in a 'I have no clue what I'm doing or why I'm doing it but I really have to do it' kind of way. He didn't have any ulterior motives.

"I don't think my innocence is at risk here, Buck."

"You don't know that. Men are fucking dicks, doll."

"Dude, I have a danger radar just like anybody else."

"'Course you do. Doesn't mean you actually listen to it."

"I so do!"

"Remember that day that really wasn't good for me a while back?" he asked, his voice now tense. "You walked straight into my sights. I nearly pulled your arm out of it's socket. That's not listening to your 'danger radar'."

"You're my best friend in the whole wide world, I wasn't gonna let you feel shitty like that. What else was I even supposed to do?"

"Leave Stevie or your ma to take care of it," he said, still tense. His voice dropped an octave lower. "I'm dangerous. You know that."

"Oh fucking hell, Buck!" Emma exclaimed. "You amazing, lovable idiot! You're not dangerous to me, you know how to control yourself now. Okay? You're in charge. You decide what you do and don't do. What you did in the past is in the past. You gotta start looking forward. A new year's coming up. What's your resolutions?"

There was another beat of silence.

"I'm gonna take Darcy out on a real date," he said quietly, and Emma smiled.

"Yeah? That's a good new year's resolution. Anything else?"

"I'm gonna get myself my own motorcycle," he said resolutely.

"Awesome! I bet Tony could set you up with some cool upgrades," she smiled.

"No," Bucky said. "I want it to be mine. None of his techy bullshit."

"You're gonna fix one up then, I presume?"

"Was plannin' on it."

"Can I help? As long as we keep the techy bullshit out," Emma asked.

"Sure, doll."

"Awesome. Well, I should really go. See you next year."

"Happy New Years," he mumbled.

"Wait, Buck!"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss Darcy at midnight. It's a tradition." He was silent again.

"It is?" he asked warily.

"Yup. Natasha confirmed."

"Maybe I will. And you, don't kiss anyone at midnight." Emma rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I might actually. We'll see. Bye Bucky," she smiled.

"Have fun. Bye doll."

She hung up and stepped into the boots, before retreating from the bathroom. Emma took the few steps over to the beginning of the stairs, only to see Damian standing at the foot of it, with his back turned towards her and his hands in his pockets.

His button down was navy blue, and it might even have been that shirt he'd worn the first time she'd ever seen him, and he was wearing black slacks. In other words, Damian looked amazing, and it was a little unfair. He turned around when he heard her steps on the marble. Damian's mouth fell open just a little, and when he seemed to be inhaling to say something, Emma held her hand up. 

"If you say 'wow' I might have to punch you, because that's so fucking cliché, and we're not those kinds of people," she said, skipping down the last five steps. Damian stared at her. 

"We aren't? Two tragic children falling for each other because of their troubled past? Sounds cliché enough to me," he retorted, but he seemed to school his features into something less awed, taking on an impressive blank that Emma hated.

"'Falling for each other'?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow. "Big talk for a guy who hasn't even taken me out on a date yet."

"Me taking you to a gala doesn't count as a date?" he questioned, eyes still roaming over her with his hands in his pockets.

"Mm. No. It was more of a rescue mission on my side. To, you know, save you from death through boredom," she pointed out. "And it was an apology gala. Apology galas don't count as dates."

"You're already sounding like a rich woman," Damian smirked, and Emma smirked deviously back. 

"'Already'? What's with the overconfidence?" Damian scowled a little, and looked ready to reply when Alfred appeared. 

"Dinner is ready," he said, and Damian's scowl deepened. Emma gave him a nudge.

"Thanks Alfred," she said, and pushed Damian into the dining room.

\---

Dinner was delicious, and loud. Emma got into a heated discussion with Jason about guns, talked smack about celebrities with Tim, and had apparently developed a new superpower that made Damian calm down as soon as she nudged him. 

It wasn't like he went tame when she touched him, but he clenched his hands, took a few deep breaths, and grit things out of his teeth instead of yelling them. He was almost civil towards Jason, even. Small miracles. Scratch that, _amazing_ miracles, who even knew Damian could be civil towards Jason?

Bruce was with them at the dinner, sitting at the head of the table and looking thoughtful, smiling at things Dick said, things Layla said, even some things Emma herself said. It was rare, probably, because Tim kept shooting Bruce mildly surprised glances. 

And all the Wayne brothers shot Damian odd looks as Emma soothed him. One time she tapped his nose, and she could almost feel them all taking deep, bracing breaths, only for them to be released quickly again when Damian only scowled at her. It was like he was a bomb waiting to go off, and Emma found that she really didn't like that.

After dinner, Emma was absolutely stuffed. Alfred's cooking was absolutely amazing, and she told him so, along with the others. 

"Not even Steve can match your cooking skills. I envy you all that get to eat this on the regular," Emma sighed happily as she patted her stomach.

"Oh, god, me too," Layla groaned. TJ made some sort of noise that was probably meant to be 'me three'.

"What time is it?" Emma asked suddenly. Dick glanced at the clock. 

"Quarter past ten," he said. "Hey, why don't you guys go do something and we'll clean up this mess."

"You sure?" Emma asked carefully. Steve had told her it was polite to help people with the dishes, and she wanted to be polite, because Alfred was really nice, in his stuffy British butler way. 

"Yes miss, thank you for your concern," Alfred said with a quirk of the lips. Emma shrugged, and the others stood up.

"Thanks for dinner! It was delicious," Emma tossed out as they walked out into the foyer. 

"I suggest hide and seek," Damian announced as soon as they'd gathered in a circle.

"Yes! What he said," Emma exclaimed and pointed at Damian. 

"I'll be the seeker first," Layla offered, and they all agreed. 

"The bedrooms and father's office are off-limits," Damian said solemnly. 

"Well, obviously," Hope said with a 'duh' look on her face. "Also, closets are off limits. Right?"

"Right," Damian replied. "We wouldn't want a repeat of last time, would we, Jones?" Layla flushed scarlet. 

"Shut up," she said and pushed him lightly.

"Okay, somebody tell the story," Emma said immediately.

"Layla found the laundry closet and got a lot of underwear thrown at her when one of the compartments collapsed," Hope smirked, and Layla shoved her too.

"Let's just go! I'm gonna count to 100. Go! Shoo!"

\---

They had all been found and had switched the seeker five times before Emma decided to actually try the chandelier. She had stayed out of the closets, standing behind a door and holding her breath when Layla came into the room. Not that Layla would have heard her breaths, she wasn't tuned for that, but the whole 'being chased' thing wasn't really working out for Emma.

She'd been hunted before, and there was a brief moment where she thought she'd heard Inferno's voice, because she was apparently going a little insane, but other than that, Damian's mansion had so many nooks and crannies that she could hide easily in that she didn't feel the fear.

Since TJ was becoming a bit of a flagpole, and Damian wasn't by any means short for his age, and Layla was also lean and lanky; it was Hope that put up most competition for the desirable nooks. She was about Emma's height, possibly a little shorter, and she followed Emma around for enough time to see where she was hiding.

Currently, Emma was striding away from Layla and the room she was in, counting loudly. She would have to use either the walls or the paintings to get high up enough, and when she turned the corner to the foyer, she heard herself gasp.

Damian was already half-way up on the wall, his target obviously the chandelier. Internally, Emma cursed. Damian was a fuckin' assassin, of course he was going to find the highest vantage point and want it. Quickly determining the way he was going to climb, she followed him upwards, climbing fast until she was grabbing his right leg, mid-air. It was _her spot_.

He gave her an angry look, and tried to shake her off, but she had experience with climbing Tony like a koala, and she did the same thing to Damian now, making his progress upwards stutter until he was fully still and she was pressing up against him with her whole torso pressed to his back, like some weird kind of wall-spooning. 

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed quietly, when she planted her besocked feet on his spread thighs. Boots were hard to sneak around in, she'd realized, so she'd taken them off early. 

"Climbing," she replied, until she could get her one leg up on his shoulder. With a boost of unnatural strength, she used his shoulder like a launch pad. 

With a graceful leap she'd learned from the acrobats, she launched herself into the air, and the sudden fall made her hair fly like flames and the blood rushed around in her ears and her gut tugged, and then she was grasping the top of the chandelier, a golden piece of metal clasped in her hands and making the crystals of the chandelier clink together. 

She held on until the chandelier stilled, and felt Damian's eyes on her, narrowed probably, when she settled around the sturdiest golden pole that went straight to the roof. Then she turned to victoriously glow at him, but Damian was gone, accepting defeat in a way that really wasn't like him at all. She immediately became worried. He was going to give her away, wasn't he?

What a fucker. 

Then she heard a soft thud, and looked over her shoulder to see Damian perched in the ceiling of all places, right above a portrait of one of his ancestors. She glared at him, and he smirked back. She flipped him off and he only smirked wider. 

Suddenly came footsteps, and Layla came sneaking in. They watched silently as she walked into the kitchen, and Emma held her breath as her heart thrummed in her ribcage. This wasn't as scary as it was to be actually chased, her life didn't depend on her staying hidden, and she kept reminding herself of that. 

Layla came back out again, humming. 

"I can hear someone!" she called, and Emma kept silent, watching Damian intently instead. Don't move, don't breathe, don't make a sound. 

Damian seemed to have adapted the same technique, he was frozen where he was pressing his hands to two beams to keep himself steady. His gaze was tracking Layla as she walked in circles. 

"Come on! I totally know you're out there. Probably Damian," Layla said from the floor, her voice echoing a little. Damian smirked in a pleased way. "Or maybe Emma. Both are sneaky fucks." A gasp. "Maybe it's the both of you? But where..."

Emma held her breath as Layla took another lap on the floor. 

"I know you're here! Assholes..." Layla grumbled, but exited the room. Emma exhaled, and her head popped back into the room, her eyes narrowed. Then her eyes locked on Emma, and her jaw dropped. "Emma fucking Barton, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Uh... Sitting?" Emma suggested. "It's possible that I haven't actually thought out a way to get down." Layla gaped, and put her hands on her hips.

"Jesus _christ_ , how did- what- Emma!"

"I'm right here."

"How did you even get up there?"

"The paintings?" Layla scanned the rest of the ceiling, and gasped. "Damian!"

"Great job blowing my cover, Barton," Damian sighed from the beams, and Layla looked about ready to faint. 

"Hey, you could've hidden somewhere else."

"I might just leave you up there for stealing my spot."

"Alfred will be disappointed."

"Pennyworth will be _delighted_ that he doesn't have to use the rickety ladder to clean the chandelier," Damian countered, and Emma pouted.

"You two are insane!" Layla exclaimed. "Get down from there!"

"Not so much insane, as not very easily moved," Damian said thoughtfully, now leaning more of his weight on one beam, looking almost casual. 

"I like to swing my legs from the top of our building. That makes me a little nervous, but this is like, baby level in comparison," Emma shrugged.

"Let's see you get down from the baby level then," Damian said, tilting his head with a haughty smirk. 

"Looking smug is unattractive," she told him as she let go of the pole to hang back with just her legs wrapped around it. 

"How come I look like I do then?" Emma laughed as she watched Damian climb down, using the paintings for leverage, and sliding down. He tucked nicely as he rolled from the table, and stood proud and tall in his slacks on the ground. He raised an eyebrow at her, a challenge.

"Who told you that you're attractive? Did the gossip rags tell you you look pretty?" she asked as she took a look at her surroundings. She could probably use the beam above her to crawl closer to the paintings, and slide down like Damian had done.

"Yes, as well as many others," he said as she gripped the beam above her. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Shut up," she said. 

"If you break a leg, it's your own damn fault." 

"Emma..." Layla said cautiously.

"Relax, I totally know what I'm doing," she said as she rested all her weight on her feet, and leaned further out, her fingers tip-toeing over the wood. When she was leaning at an acute angle, she took a deep breath, and pushed off the chandelier. 

The jump didn't have nearly enough force, but she still managed to get her toes onto the nearest painting, and practically slammed into the wall, her fingers grabbing one of the beams. When she was practically steady, she carefully slid down the huge painting she'd been leaning on, and climbed to the floor.

"Tada!" she said with a bow, and Damian rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, bravo, you managed to get down from the baby level," he said. "Good for you." Emma smiled and patted his cheek as she walked by him to follow Layla out of the room. 

They found Hope stuffed into a locked cabinet, according to Hope, Jason had passed by and locked it, and Damian promised that they'd pour water in his bed and lock him into his bathroom later. TJ was found in the kitchen, laying underneath the kitchen table like it was nobody's business, with Tim as guard apparently, because he was sitting by the kitchen table, texting. 

"I was found last?! This is historical," TJ exclaimed, and Tim looked up at them. 

"Oh hi. Right, Dick just disappeared, said that champagne is up in the other other left right seating room," he said. 

"'Other other left right'?" Emma snorted. "It doesn't surprise me you've named the rooms, what with how many there are." Tim smiled, and it was a cute smile, one that didn't make him look so serious and adult-y.

"Shall we go to the other other left right sitting room, then?" Damian said, and offered her his arm, looking as if he'd done it distantly, but from the way his eyes flickered to her arm, it had been a calculated move. When did Damian ever do anything distantly, anyways?

"Champagne sounds good. I've never had it," she said as she linked her arm with his, and they all walked out, followed by Tim, back to being buried in his phone.

"No? Well I find it a little sour and a tad bit too bitter, much like non-alcoholic wine," he said. 

"Non-alcoholic wine? Is that even a thing?"

"It is." She kept her mouth shut about the 'I've had actual alcohol' thing, because that had made Steve look horrified and Clint grim, which were both signs that that was a bad thing. 

Damian led them up the stairs and down a hallway, and then to the left, and then the right, and then to the second door down the hall. There, Jason and Dick were lounging in one of the couches, the tv was on, where a show at Times Square was showing, and Alfred was standing by the door with glasses of what Emma assumed was champagne in them.

She took a glass as the others did, and they all plopped down in the couches. Emma pulled her feet up and to the side, and leaned into Layla's side. It was getting late, already 11:30 pm, and although she could stay up late as hell whenever she put her mind to it, she felt safe and warm with her friends next to her. 

It was going to be a good New Year. 

When there was only five minutes left of the year, Dick exclaimed 

"Resolutions! Any New Years Resolutions?" he asked with a smile, and wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Personally, I'm going to read more books," Hope said matter-of-factly, and Layla quirked an eyebrow. 

"You already read tons of books," she said. 

"So? I'm going to read more."

"I'm going to join band," TJ said and fixed his glasses a little distantly. "And I'm going to get a lock for my door so the triplets can't get in."

"If only locks could stop people in this house," Jason sighed a little wistfully.

"If you wish to keep your things private, don't leave the door to your room open," Damian reasoned easily, and sipped his champagne. Emma was squished into the couch between Layla and Damian, and there was something about the way he currently smelled that was kind of alluring.

"It wasn't open. It was locked, demon spawn." _That's a new nickname_ , Emma thought to herself. Well, coming from Jason, it wasn't such an unreasonable nickname.

"Lock it better next time."

"That's alarming," Emma laughed, and leaned her head on Layla's shoulder. Layla shrugged her shoulder.

"Hey, you're not falling asleep, are you?" she asked.

"No," Emma protested as she was pushed off the blonde's shoulder. "You're mean."

"You're the one that's falling asleep," she scoffed with a smile. Emma grumbled, but leaned her head against Damian's shoulder instead. It was softer, less bony, and she hummed happily.

"Dami won't push me off," she said triumphantly, and felt Damian tense under her. "Chill, don't make my pillow move." He relaxed just a little, and stayed silent as Hope yelled something at Jason.

"Do you have any resolutions?" Damian asked quietly. She hummed.

"Probably the same as usual. Don't get killed. And get good grades. And not fail math."

"You're not failing math."

"Math is really hard."

"For what it's worth, I think that you've adapted almost seamlessly into the school-life."

"You had to do the same thing."

"Yes, but I'm still not entirely integrated. I was still making teachers angry after two quarters. You have advanced further." Emma smiled, and left her very comfy pillow to look up at him.

"Oh, the countdown is starting!" Dick exclaimed suddenly, and everybody's eyes snapped to the tv as Dick turned the volume up.

"... Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

"Happy New Year!" everyone in the room exclaimed.

No kisses followed.

\---

So, apparently none of the Wayne boys were really excited about things that go boom, but they had bought some fireworks, and so they all brought their champagne outside, and shuddered with the cold as Dick and Jason took turns lighting the rockets. 

Damian, being the only one sensible enough to take his coat with him, was being surrounded by Emma, Hope, and Layla, because stealing his coat hadn't worked. They'd had to revert to simply huddling. TJ was huddling by Tim and Dick instead, talking enthusiastically about something undoubtedly nerdy with Tim. 

Another firework lit up the sky, and the white sparks crackled, making them all ooh and aah.

"Want to light one, Bella ballerina?" Jason called over, and Layla beamed as she grabbed Hope and ran over to him.

Emma grabbed Damian's arm and pushed him a little bit to the side.

"Hey, do you think I can set a rocket off with my powers?" she asked with a devious glint in her eyes. Damian blinked. 

"I don't know. Try." She grinned at him, and turned to stare at one of the fireworks far away from Jason and the others, mounted neatly in a glass bottle. She imagined the gunpowder inside of the cardboard cylinder igniting, and snapped her fingers.

Nothing happened.

"Aw, I thought I could-"

A screeching noise was heard as the rocket took off, scaring both teens and making the one next to it light up as well. They exploded in reds and greens in the sky, and Emma giggled happily. 

"It's beautiful," she sighed. 

"It's just fireworks," Damian said dismissively, but he still looked on as Jason lit another one, backing up with a grin on his face. 

"You make it sound like it's just dustbunnies," Emma complained. "It's at least pretty. You can admit that." Jason's firework took off and banged loudly as it exploded in an array of colors.

"I don't find pollution pretty," Damian scowled. 

"What _do_ you find pretty, then?" He was silent for a while, contemplating.

"Especially fine suits. Sharpened blades. You." Emma laughed.

"That's really cheesy of you," she told him and patted his cheek. Damian scowled.

"I don't find it cheesy. I'm merely stating facts."

"You're stating your opinion."

"What, you don't think you're pretty?"

"Well, I mean... Yes. I'm gorgeous. One has to have confidence to be utterly indestructible, and so, yes, I'm pretty. But that I'm pretty isn't a fact. It's an opinion," she said with a nod. Damian hummed, and looked at her thoughtfully. 

"You're also empowering," he said. "You excite people. Enthrall them. It's amazing to watch." Emma laughed a little. 

"You really like me, huh?" He shrugged. 

"I'm merely stating my opinions. Feel free to interpret them freely." 

"Well, I kind of like you too."

"Oh really now?" She blushed and shoved him. 

"Screw off." He smirked. 

"Barton! You're such a firecracker, how about you light one too?" came Jason's call, and Emma shrugged.

"Back off, professional coming through!"

\---

After some midnight snacks, everyone had been pretty sleepy, and they'd changed into their pyjamas and brushed their teeth, and gone to bed on mattresses spread out in the living room closest to the kitchen. 

Layla had parked her mattress by the couch, TJ his by Layla's head, Hope had put hers closest to the door, Damian his where the table was usually, and Emma hers by the end of the couch across from Layla's. 

Following sleepily muttered goodnight's, Dick had called lights out, and went upstairs to go to bed, Jason and Tim trailing behind. Alfred had disappeared before the fireworks, and Emma assumed he was sleeping in his own quarters. 

After a few hours of sleep, however, Damian awoke to noises. Noises of discomfort, fear. Maybe someone had broken in, tried to hurt his friends, and he sat up quickly, scanning the room for intruders, when he heard a choked sob from behind him. 

Turning his head, he noticed that the thrashing was coming from Emma's mattress, as well as the sounds. 

"Barton," he whispered, and only got a whimper in reply. Internally, he sighed, and crawled out of his makeshift bed. 

As he approached her on silent knees and hands, he noticed her ragged breathing, the way a quiet groan of pain slipped from her lips. It made Damian's jaw clench and he sat down by her mattress. The soft light from the kitchen fell on her hair, making it look red like blood rather than it's usual fiery state, and it made Damian a little uneasy to think about what she might be dreaming about. 

"Barton," he whispered. Emma's breath came in quick puffs, and he made a frustrated face at the darkness surrounding them. Grayson and Drake were trained well enough that if you hissed their name, they'd at least open their eyes and pretend to be awake. Emma was just so _different_ from everything he knew. "Barton. Barton. _Emma_."

Emma's eyes snapped open, and she gripped the arm he had rested against her mattress, suddenly throwing her legs out and grabbing him around the waist, twisting her body around so silently and quickly that even he had trouble catching up with what she was doing. 

Suddenly he was pinned to her mattress with too much force for a body smaller than his own, and genuine hate seemed to flash in Emma's eyes before she took a deep breath. He relaxed a little, even though it could turn out to be a deadly mistake, because even though he wasn't under the impression that Emma would never ever injure him in a nightmareish state, he knew that he needed to relax. Make himself less of a threat until she came to her senses.

"Damian?" she whispered, and he gave a numb nod. Immediately the pressure on his wrists disappeared, and Emma scrambled back on the mattress like touching him had burned her. "Shit. _Shit_."

Damian sat up slowly, making sure she wasn't going to make something explode. She was taking deep, calming breaths, a breathing exercise it seemed like, and Damian deduced that her uncle, the Hulk, had taught her those. He seemed like the only one except maybe her father that would be involved with such a thing. 

"You were crying out in your sleep," he whispered.

"Fuck. I'm sorry I woke you up," she said, raking a trembling hand through her hair. He thought about what Grayson used to do to console him whenever he had nightmares. 

"Would you like to hug?" he asked. That made Emma make a muffled noise that sounded like a laugh. 

"Are you offering?"

"Yes." She crawled forward on the mattress, coming back into the light that was streaming in through the kitchen, and he noticed her eyes, glittering with unushed tears. He only ever hugged his father and Grayson and Barbara, and Jones had a tendency to kiss his cheek whenever she was feeling particularly French, and Summers liked to link their arms together whenever they walked, but Emma, Emma was a whole new level of close. 

When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and inched forward until she could lean her head against his, Damian took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her. When she squeezed him in a very reptilian way, he squeezed back, and her breath was warm against his neck. He noticed Emma's fingers clenching the fabric of his t-shirt tightly.

"There, there," Damian mumbled, almost questioningly, and Emma muffled another laugh, against his shoulder this time. 

"You don't have to put so much effort into it. I'm totally fine. Cool as ever. I'm as chill as a cucumber."

"Odd comparison."

"Shut up," she snickered into his shoulder. Her hair smelled like the artificial scent of some flower, but with an underlying other, more natural, scent. It was quite mesmerizing.

Emma finally gathered her breath and pulled away, her fingers grazing his upper arms as she finally retracted herself. They were still sitting close to each other, breathing each others air. If he wanted to, he could reach his hand out and touch hers. 

The huge room was more or less silent, the only sounds being their breaths combined with the ticking of the huge clock and the occasional snore from Layla. In the dim light, Damian could see about a third of Emma's face, the way her red hair covered almost half her left eye, her pupils blown to take in the rest of the room around her, and half of her lips, the tip of her nose. 

"You didn't kiss me at midnight," she suddenly whispered. Damian blanked.

"Excuse me?"

"Mom and dad told me it's a tradition to kiss someone when the ball drops, and you didn't kiss me." 

"I was unaware you wanted me to."

"We do kiss occasionally," she pointed out.

"I think Jones might have done a victory dance or clawed my eyes out if I had kissed you," he mused. The part of Emma's lips that was illuminated quirked. 

"Well, Layla thinks we're meant to be, so I'd say first victory dance and then eye-clawing." 

"Overly romantic thought."

"That's what I said," Emma whispered with a shrug. He stared at her lips for a while. "Can't you give me a New Years kiss now?"

"The new year has been here for over three and a half hours," he pointed out, and he caught the roll of her eyes before she grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him in to a kiss that made his head spin a little. 

He was _not_ blushing when he pulled away. Why would he be? It was just a stupid _kiss_. Emma looked pleased though, her cheeks tinged red as well. 

"We should go back to sleep," he said quietly, and suddenly hesitation flashed over Emma's features.

"Do you... Um... Could you scoot your mattress over here? In case I start dreaming again. I don't want to wake the others up," she whispered, looking unsure. Damian nodded. 

"Of course. For the necessity." Emma nodded, and helped him soundlessly drag his mattress closer to hers. When their mattresses were a good foot apart on the floor, they settled back into their makeshift beds. 

"'Night Dami," Emma mumbled just before she drifted off, and she wasn't sure, but she distantly recalled a mumbled recognition coming from Damian.

\---


	58. Morning Afters And Unknowing Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah please don't throw tomatoes at me! I'm so so sorry for being gone almost an entire month! Christ, how did that even happen? Well, I'm not entirely back now, I've been having a bad case of the block, until I had a brilliant idea like five hours ago and I've been kind of writing since then.  
> (Also I've reread your comments like a billion times and just, you are all such sweet lovely things and I just want to hug you all for being so sweet and kind to me, thank you for your support and love <3)  
> Enjoy this chapter! <3

 

Natasha laughed politely as a hand brushed up against her ass that really wasn't Clint's. This, she was used to. Men looking at her like she should be put on a piedestal and women glaring at her as she strode around the room. 

Tonight, however, she wasn't Natasha. Tonight, she was the sole heiress of a grand company in Italy, and tonight, her name was Adalina Lacovara, and she was speaking with an Italian accent and she had been groped, flirted with, and one very forward man even tried to kiss her. 

All in the job description. 

Luckily, not all rich people were horrible, and she had been saved by a woman who exclaimed her name and came and kissed her cheeks in greeting, and then led her away from the confused, huge man who had been trying to kiss her. As soon as they were out of his sights, the woman deflated a little with relief. 

" _Pardon_ ," she said, her French sharp and alluring. "Ze men in zis room are... Grabby."

"Agreed," Natasha said with an exasperated smile. Adalina wouldn't be angry about it, as Natasha actually was, but it was the calm, controlled rage that she could manage and that Tony said made her look impressively murderous. Adalina was not Natasha, and no traces of Natasha were to enter Adalina. Good thing Natasha was good at her job. "Thank you."

" _Avec plaisir_. My name is Florence Geffroy," she said, stretching a thin hand out. Her hair was brown and swept up into a bun, her face angular and her eyes bright. Natasha took the offered, and shook it shyly. 

"Adalina Lacovara," she replied in her Italian accented English. 

Natasha knew exactly who Florence Geffroy was. She was the sister of Julien Geffroy, the person Shield had linked to a string of murders in the United States, mostly scattered around California and Florida.

All had died the same way, a pill of a chemical with a name Clint couldn't pronounce as he read the file, and had, post-mortem, been stripped of any personal belongings, making the local police initially think that it was just targeted mugging. A golden wedding ring here, a wallet there, and the police dropped it. 

No wonder she hated the cops.

" _Enchanté_ ," Florence smiled. "What brings you here?"

"I'm merely here with my husband, but he seems to have drifted," she said and distantly twirled the ring around her finger. The ring felt heavy, and it should be, logically, seeing as it was a ring worthy of the whistle Clint had given it when Hill had opened the box and given it to Natasha, with a big diamond and gold encasing trying desperately to keep the diamond in place.

She actually knew exactly were Clint was, he was leaning by the wall, talking to another woman, schmoozing and flirting. Before Emma came along, before Natasha admitted that she wanted him, that fact would be making annoyance curl in her stomach. Now, now she had him by the balls, literally and figuratively, and he didn't want anybody else but her.

She felt safe to say that Clint wasn't going to try and hook up with any of these girls.

So she smiled at Florence, who rolled her eyes. 

"Men. Always in a hurry," she sighed. "My brother is the same. Always drifting." She was immediately leading Natasha onto her brother, and launched into an enthusiastic spiel about how he always had strayed from their parents set out path. 

Which was very... Puzzling. 

Natasha found herself growing wary at how enthusiastically Florence made her brother Julian look like the black sheep of the family. How he'd gone to a college far away and come back changed and filled with new, crazy ideas on how to change the company for the worse, in her opinion. 

It was almost like she was desperate to make Natasha understand that Julien was the bad guy, the one to catch. Immediately, she worried about their cover being blown, but nobody seemed to be approaching to apprehend her. And then she had a thought.

What if Julien was the _white_ sheep of the family?

The Geffroy family wasn't one of the big-shot families in France, not nearly in the underworld of it either. The Geffroy family was, however, very sketchy, seeing as their past three generations had spent considerable time in America on 'business', going to college, and most probably murdering. What if Julien had come back from America thinking he could clean up his family's mess?

Now, Florence was beautiful by society's standards. She had long legs, slim shoulders, and she was tall in her heels and had flawless skin. But her arms were strong, the muscle bulging just enough for Natasha to notice, and she could easily have snaked her way into the men's proximity and killed them.

A hand touched her back, not her ass this time, and she immediately noticed Clint's calm presence behind her. He gave Florence a sunny smile.

"And who may this be, _diletto mio_?" he asked with his Italian accent as he swooped in next to her, pulling her to him in a possessive way that wasn't only Dante Lacovara. His hair looked even more brown in this dim light, and the lenses were probably for the best, because his blue eyes were something to be remembered.

"Florence Geffroy, this is my husband, Dante," she introduced. "Dante, Florence. She has been very kind to me."

" _Enchanté_ ," she said, smiling coldly towards him. It was a little startling how cold she was towards Clint compared to Natasha, but apparently, Florence was looking like a man-hater, and not just a murderer. 

"I need to steal my wife for a moment, _scusi_."

"I will see you later, _oui_?" Florence asked a little hopefully, and Natasha smiled and nodded, and then waved as Clint led her away over the dancefloor.

"I think Florence is much nicer than her brother," Natasha murmured into her comm and to Clint. He raised a painted eyebrow, and Natasha locked eyes with him, trying to communicate what exactly she meant with that statement.

His eyes widened for a moment as he caught her drift.

"Oh," he said. "Brilliant, _diletto mio_." She saw him think hard as Coulson spoke up.

"Mr Geffroy is giving a speech in six minutes. I think Romanoff's hunch might be right. His sister was in the country when all the murders took place as well. Bring one in, and they might give us more information."

"Florence does seem to hate her brother almost as much as I do," Natasha added thoughtfully and quietly as they strode towards the doors to another, smaller room, which wasn't saying much compared to the one they were in now.

In here, the walls were painted gold and blue, and the ceiling was high and had intricate, repeating patterns carved into it. It was actually a quite beautiful scenery, but as always, unless it was of importance for the mission, the details were ignored.

The next room had hundreds of chairs set up in front of a stage with a podium, and most of the chairs were taken by now. Natasha managed to snatch two seats on the third row by waving the man who tried to kiss her over and then having Clint steal his seat and the woman's seat next to him. Natasha just about managed to shake him off and sit down next to Clint before a short, balding man stepped up on the stage.

He was sweating a little nervously, as he cleared his throat and declared in accented English that the benefactor of the gala was going to give his speech, and then he introduced Julian Geffroy.

Julian was tall, like his sister, and slim, like her too. His hair was brown and cropped short and styled in a very European fashion, and his smile had that overly charming, still kind of dickish, air to it, which would have made lots of ladies that weren't Natasha swoon. 

"We've done some extra digging," Coulson said softly in their ears as Julian spoke his first words of gratitude. "Seems like Ms. Geffroy has motives for all murders. All of the victims seem to be associates of her brother, but all of them have left the organization."

"It could be either one of them," Clint muttered.

"I say we take Florence, she isn't in the spotlight as much as Julian is tonight," Natasha murmured and leaned a little closer to Clint, leaning in to whisper into his ear. Well, hearing aid, really. "I bet she's going to get up in the middle of the speech when he says something she finds upsetting. I'll follow her, if you'll back me up."

Clint smiled like she'd told him something juicy, and kissed her on the lips. 

" _Mi farebbe molto piacere_ ," he said softly, and she smiled. 

"Good."

And, as predicted, Florence stood up, maybe a little abruptly, as Julian sang the praises of the Americans at the gala, and walked out of the huge room. Natasha quickly followed after kissing Clint's cheek briefly.

Florence was pacing out in the main room, where only the bartender was at the moment, wiping glasses off and putting them back where they belonged.

"Florence?" Natasha said tentatively. "Are you okay?" 

The other woman's head whipped up, and she slapped on a smile. 

"Adalina! _Oui_ , I was just going to find the ladies room."

"Are you not enjoying your brother's speech?" Natasha asked as Florence stopped her pacing to let Natasha catch up.

"Pompous fool," Florence tsked. "Nobody else can tell when he zis being dishonest."

"Dishonest?" Natasha asked, making the word stumble over her tongue.

"Lying," Florence fumed. "His lying tongue has created many problems for me over the years to take care of." 

"Like Martin Adkins?" Natasha asked, and Florence narrowed her eyes at Natasha, a tell so obvious that she wondered if Florence had ever had to lie to authorities. She would probably have failed. 

"The American?" she asked slowly. "He was never that big of a problem. How do you know who he is?"

Clint appeared from seemingly nowhere behind Florence, and hummed thoughtfully. The woman whipped around on the spot and stared at Clint. He smiled. 

"Well, could have to do with the whole... Being murdered thing that happened to him," he said, his voice void of accent. The gig was up. The tall woman kept staring. "That we're pretty sure you're connected to. Murders. Chemicals. Is it you or your brother that has the masters in chemistry?"

"Me," Florence said, as if this was something she'd been asked a million times, and was just so sick of it. 

"Right. So, easy way or hard way? You should know how this will end either way," he asked with practiced nonchalance. Natasha still noticed the way his entire frame was coiled with tension. He was ready for a fight. 

And apparently, so was Florence.

She dropped into a clumsy combatant stance in her tight dress, and snarled. Yeah. Natasha was right. How could at least six other agents have missed that when investigating this in the first place?

Sometimes it amazed Natasha that Shield was still sexist enough to underestimate the women of this world.

Clint slid effortlessly into a defensive pose, his eyes going sharp and Natasha knew that under the lenses, they were bright blue now, focused. She immediately stepped forward and grabbed the shocked Florence's hands and pulled them tightly behind her back before the other woman could process it. Within seconds, she was swept off her feet, Natasha sitting down on her back with practiced ease. 

"Hard way, I guess," Clint said, a smirk spreading on his lips. "No one ever expects you to be so lethal, _diletto mio_." 

Natasha took the cuffs from Clint's hands with a huff of amusement, and locked them firmly around the thin woman's wrists. Natasha could feel the target gather a deep breath, probably to scream, and she immediately slammed a hand over her mouth, pulling her gun out from her thigh holster. 

"You make any sound and I'll have to hurt you. Don't make me do that. Be nice," Natasha suggested. "I'm an excellent shot." Florence was hyperventilating, and gave Natasha a murder-glare over her shoulder. Natasha smiled sweetly.

"Don't look so grumpy," Clint said. "You stay really quiet and she won't have to shoot you. Simple."

The former assassin stood up again, and dragged Florence to her feet, immediately being assisted by Clint as they dragged her down the hall. 

"Package wrapped up and ready to go," Clint said cheerfully.

"We're waiting outside. Take the back entrance on your way out," Coulson replied in their comms. 

"You are agents," Florence snapped, and Natasha inwardly rolled her eyes. 

"Astute observation," she said as they approached the back entrance, a sign saying 'sortie d'urgence' on it. Natasha pushed the door open and they walked out into an alleyway. A black limo was standing by the curb, and Clint opened the door with a dazzling smile Florence's way. She snarled at him, but let herself be guided into the veichle. 

Natasha took one more look around and then slid into the limo with the others. 

\---

In the end, they'd decided to drop by the Reed party for a little while. Jane was home with Peter because she had a headache as they got ready to leave, and also kind of hated crowds. Thor was going to stay home with her, but she'd convinced him to leave in the end, and here they were, Steve, Darcy, Bucky, Tony, and Thor, scattered around the Baxter building floor. 

Reed had been angry that Tony had guided the guests to them instead, and Tony would've loved to have seen his face when people came a'knocking, but apparently Sue had calmed him down enough to let everyone in in the end, which wasn't as much fun. 

But hey. Booze. (Not that he was actually drinking too much, because Steve had made him choose between fireworks and drinks, and in the end, the fireworks had won). 

"Tony!" Darcy exclaimed with a giggle, and more or less collapsed onto the older man. Tony smirked at her. 

"Hey Lewis," he smirked as he let her use him as a support to keep upright. The party was in full swing, and it was only nine something. Steve was talking to someone boring over by a table, but that someone boring was a very attractive woman, and even though Tony didn't pin Steve as the cheating type, he still felt... Worried.

Because he was too old for Steve, too reckless, too much of everything everyone said he was. He made strings of bad decisions and even getting together with Steve might have been one of those bad decisions, because Steve deserved _so much better._  

Tony was just being selfish, by keeping Steve from the rest of the world. 

Steve's eyes connected with his in the crowd, and Steve smiled at him, saying something to the woman who turned her head to look. Her hair was in blonde waves over her shoulder, her makeup practically flawless, but her look turned disappointed. She still smiled at him, maybe with a pinch of sadness to it, and turned back to Steve. 

Maybe the reason Tony was clinging to Steve so tightly was because Steve was clinging right back. 

Not a lot of people thought they could make it when they'd first started going out, because Tony didn't do relationships. After Pepper... It just didn't feel right for him. Nobody could be as loving and patient as Pepper. But then Steve came along. And Tony was proved so wrong. 

Natasha didn't believe in them at first, Pepper was skeptical, Barton was smug, and Bruce was kind of supportive in his own way, but for Tony, the only thing that'd mattered was Steve. At first, he'd dated Steve to prove that he could be a normal person, but then he tripped in love with the guy. Kind of hard to reverse it now.

Not that Tony wanted to. 

"Tony?" Darcy smacked him in the face to get his attention, and he smirked at her. 

"I think you've had a little too much. Where's your lovely boyfriend?"

"Somewhere," Darcy said distantly. "Some girl flirted with him, so I had to save him, and then he disappeared."

"Probably calling Emma," Tony muttered to himself. 

"Man, he loves that kid so much," Darcy sighed with a smile. 

"It doesn't bother you?" Tony asked with a quirked eyebrow as he spotted Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne across the room. He immediately started steering his drunk friend towards them through the crowd. 

"Not really. He needs her to survive," she pointed out. "They have a pretty great friendship anyways. It's cute."

"Yeah, but it gets a little scary sometimes," he said. 

"Scary?" Darcy asked, frowning. Her cheeks were a little rosy from all the booze, and there was a definite wobble to her step, but she seemed otherwise composed. Darcy could hold her alcohol, Tony thought a little proudly. 

"They get a little freaky when they have cuddling sessions."

"I think it's cute," Darcy protested as Tony smiled at Janet and slowed to a stop.

"Tony!" she exclaimed happily, and threw herself at him in a hug. Tony laughed and hugged her back, nodded at Hank that smiled sheepishly at him over her shoulder. 

"Hi Jan, haven't heard from you in forever," he said as he put her back down on the ground. She beamed at him, and Tony saw out of the corner of his eye how Hank got grabbed by a blonde, that kind of looked like Mockingbird, and dragged over to a table with shots. Poor guy. 

"We've been busy," Janet told him. 

"Do I even dare ask why?" Tony teased, and Janet slapped him on the arm with a giggle. 

"Science, Tony. You should know. All work and no play," Jan said. 

"Actually, I'm more of a family guy now."

"Oh right! Congrats!" she exclaimed. "I heard about the engagement. Please let me design your suits for the wedding."

"Who else would I even think about asking?" Tony chuckled. She beamed at him again. "We haven't even started planning too much of it yet. You'll have to help. You have Pep's number, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I do."

"I'll put you on the planners list," he said with a click of his tongue. 

"Awesome!" Janet said. 

"Hi Jan," Darcy said, and Janet squealed before attacking Darcy in a hug too. They went off chattering just as Bucky came up beside him like a dark shadow.

"Jesus! Could you not?" Tony said with a skittish jump, and Bucky's lips twitched. "Right. Stupid question. How's Emma?"

"She's good," he said with a nod. "They're having fun. Do people really kiss each other when the new year comes?"

"Yup," Tony confirmed. "Why? You gonna man up and kiss your girlfriend in public?" Bucky punched Tony in the arm, and Tony wobbled. "Whoa, what the fuck was that for?"

"Emma's said that saying 'man up' is a shitty thing to do, and to punch people who do it. Stevie'd be pissed if I socked you and broke your nose though," Bucky explained, and Tony rubbed his arm. 

"Emma is re-brainwashing you." A look of mild alarm crossed Bucky's face, and Tony immediately hurried to soothe. "I mean, she's not actually brainwashing you. She's teaching you important things. Punching people may be a little extreme though. Telling them to fuck off in Russian, that oughta do the trick, as well as giving them that look that you- Yes! That one. Just shoot them that look and they'll run off."

Suddenly a warm hand was placed on Tony's shoulder, and the heat went straight through three layers of fabric and onto his skin, which probably shouldn't be possible with normal human heat.

Right. _Normal_.

"Haaaaave you met Steve?" came an annoying voice from Tony's left. 

"Hi Johnny," Tony smirked, and looked over to see Steve leaning on said Human Torch. "I have met Steve, surprisingly. I'm banging him."

"Oh right, shit, I totally forgot," Johnny murmured, a little slurred. "Congrats on tapping that."

"Thanks."

"Why do you two look alike?" Bucky asked suspiciously. 

"Nobody really knows," Tony said as he gave Steve a closer look. "Are you drunk?"

"A little," Steve said, squinting and measuring about an inch between his thumb and pointer finger as he shrugged Johnny's arm off of him.

"How are you even _tipsy,_ your metabolism won't let you get drunk," Tony said with mild concern. Steve stepped a little closer, cheeks flushed and pretty in the dim light of the room.

"Reed made some very strong stuff. Even managed to get Thor drunk," Steve sighed happily as he squished Tony in a hug, kissed his neck. Tipsy Steve was clingier than Sober Steve, which was saying something. 

"Ugh, _Reed_."

"Don't do that, you love him."

"I really don't, Cap. Let's gather the gang and go back to the tower so I can blow up the amazing fireworks I made."

"You good to drive? 'Cause I sure ain't." The Brooklyn lilt came out a little stronger when Steve was drunk, and Tony thought it was adorable.

"I've had two drinks. My liver can take it. It's hardened over time. I'm good, Steve. Let's go. Where the hell did- Bucky, get away from the strong as fuck booze! Goddammit!"

\---

The fireworks lit up in formations, because Tony was good at what he did, and a frickin' overachiever. When one firework blew up into a vague shape that looked a little bit like Steve's shield, Tony got himself kissed senseless. Bucky kissed Darcy deep enough that they did the old-timesy tilt thing again as they did, and Thor and Jane kissed and Pepper and Happy kissed, the sly dogs. 

Bucky watched Darcy's face, and wondered if he'd ever thought about someone like he thought of her back in the day. Probably not. Steve said he could've had a dame for every day of the week and still care about them all. But none of those girls could have been as good as Darcy, could they? That seemed improbable. 

She noticed him staring, and turned her head to him with an eyebrow raised. 

"See anything you like?" she asked softly. 

"Yeah," he replied, because he did. Darcy was beautiful, yes, but she was also so much more. She was brilliant, actually, and he hadn't even known about it until Emma had convinced him that Darcy was cool enough to watch movies with them. 

Darcy smiled and dragged him into another kiss, her cheeks flushed from the champagne and the excitement and the cold. Her small nose was cold against his skin, but he found that he for once didn't mind the cold, when her mouth was so warm on his. 

He tucked a lock of brown hair back over her ear, and Darcy's breath caught a little as she pulled away. She would catch him watching her once in a while, and while it was a little freaky in a kind of cute way, she had very little idea what they were about. Darcy had learned the art of reading Bucky's miniature expressions as he did things, like the tiny pull of his lips when he wanted to smile but didn't feel like he could, and the haunted look in his eyes she'd seen when she'd first seen his shoulder with the bionic arm attached to it. 

The looks were thoughtful, but also soft, and calculating, but gentle. Paradoxes.

Bucky was kind of like a contradiction in her opinion. He was so strong but still so fragile, what with the shit Hydra put him through, and he was soft and malleable but he didn't let anyone trample him. She'd actually never seen anyone try. Bucky glared them down first.

He never glared at her. 

Bucky's lips twitched into that small smile, and his eyes went to her lips again.

"How 'bout we get back downstairs?" he asked lowly, and Darcy swallowed, memorizing the image of him like this, in a suit, hair tucked behind his ears and smiling at her. He looked gorgeous, really. 

"You're making me swoon," she retorted, and he huffed out a laugh. 

"I'm glad it's working," he murmured, and put his hand on the small of her back, which, okay, was not fair. Not even remotely fair. His lips brushed her neck, and she melted a little bit in his hands.

"It's pretty cold out here," she said, reasonably. 

"It is." He kissed the space where her neck met her shoulder as his hand slid around her waist.

"And I'm not wearing a jacket." 

"Right."

"Just-" She made an impatient noise, and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the elevator. Bucky grinned all the way to their floor.

\---

When Emma woke up, she was confronted with annoying light hitting her in the face. So at least it was kind of morning, although she could still hear Layla's snoring, but also Hope's hushed whispers. 

"... Yeah, I'm fine," Hope said in an insecure tone, and Emma wanted to sit up and comfort her, but when she readied herself to sit up, she noticed two things. 

One, Dick was sitting by Hope, an arm around her shoulders.

Two, she couldn't move her hand. 

Opening one eye, Emma turned her head to look at her left hand, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw the four fingers clasped around them. Attached to said fingers was a hand, and to said hand, an arm, and to said arm, Damian was attached. Emma blinked her eyes open to owlishly look at him. 

It was almost... Sickeningly sweet.

She wasn't one for sickeningly sweet, but this felt strangely right. Like holding Damian's hand as she slept wasn't a totally new thing and was definitely what she was supposed to be doing. And that was just a weird thought.

Emma idly wondered who had stretched their hand out in their sleep first. 

She turned her head enough to look at Dick, where he was sitting next to Hope and whispering something. Probably something soothing. Good. 

Unconsciously, she squeezed Damian's fingers, and watched as his eyes snapped open, zeroing in on her face like he'd been awake this whole time. The only thing giving him away was the way his eyes looked a little bleary, and the way he took a deep breath. 

He seemed to notice their interlocked fingers too, and she saw mild panic flash over his face, so she squeezed his hand again. When Damian met her eyes, she closed hers. It was too early to be awake anyways.

She didn't get to sleep at all, actually. 

Hope plopped down next to her on her mattress, and Emma sighed, turned her head to stare at her. 

"No," she said firmly. 

"It's past ten am, Emma," Hope smiled. 

"Whaaat. No way," Emma groaned. Damian's finger's squeezed hers and then disappeared, and when Emma tossed a look over her shoulder, he was gone from the mattress. 

"Way," Hope said with a yawn, stretching a little. 

"Nooo," Emma said again, and grabbed her thick duvet, throwing it over Hope and pulling her friend into the cocoon of warmth she'd made for herself. 

"This is nice," Hope hummed. 

"Hell yeah it is," Emma agreed as she burrowed into the mattress more. "Bed-sharing is swell."

"Who do you share beds with?" the other girl asked, squinting at her. 

"Mom and dad. And dad's dog. And my bestest friend in the whole wide world."

"That tall guy with the inaccurate Anakin Skywalker arm?" Hope questioned. 

"Yup."

"He's old though."

"You couldn't be more right."

"Isn't that weird?" Hope asked thoughtfully. Emma shrugged.

"No. I need sleeping buddies, usually. I don't like sleeping alone, and he's like a fucking sun when he's still for too long. It's great, actually."

"You still sleep with your parents?"

"I didn't have parents for years. So yeah, I'm gonna jump on every damn chance I get to sleep in the same bed as my parents." Hope bit her lip. 

"Yeah, I get it."

"Didn't you sleep with your dad when you got scared as a kid?"

"I guess," Hope said with furrowed eyebrows. Her hair was in a thick braid, and she pondered that for a while as Emma closed her eyes. Suddenly the blanket was lifted, and Emma protested as Layla slid in behind her. 

"Cold, cold, cold," Hope hissed, and Layla mumbled a sorry. 

"I heard talking over here," she yawned, her blonde hair in disarray, as she cracked her neck with a vicious pop. "What's up?"

"Emma needs cuddle-buddies to sleep," Hope announced. 

"Why?"

"I don't like sleeping alone," Emma said defensively, and Layla shrugged. 

"There's obviously nothing wrong with that. If you'd have told me sooner, I'd totally have scootched in with you."

"That's sweet of you, Lay. I'll keep it mind the next time I want a chainsaw sleeping next to me," Emma murmured sleepily.

"Excuse you! Are you saying I snore?"

"Yes," Hope and Emma said unanimously.

"I agree," came TJ's tired mumble. "You're worse than the triplets when they have colds."

"I kind of wish I had siblings," Emma said distantly. 

"They're no good for anything," came Damian's scowl-laced voice from the arch leading into the hallway. Emma turned onto her stomach to look at him, and nearly kicked Hope off the mattress as she did.

"I bet they're great," Emma said stubbornly. 

"Taylor is actually the devil, so I agree with Damian," Layla said. 

"The triplets are cute but mostly just annoying," TJ said thoughtfully. 

"See?" Damian motioned with a hand in the air. "Breakfast is ready. Come on."

\---

After a delicious breakfast and a game of extreme duct tape tag, who even knew that was a _thing_ , calls were being made to get picked up and bags were being packed. When Emma was finished with hers, and had texted Steve, she pulled her things into the hallway, and put on sweatpants.

When she stalked into the kitchen, she was stopped by a body that she walked gracefully into. 

"Holy crap, what abs," Emma said, because she was the _smoothest gal in the galaxy_ , and looked up to meet Dick's amused look. 

"I'm glad you like them," he snorted.

"Quite fine," Emma replied, and patted his stomach. Dick grinned. 

"Want some hot cocoa? I was just gonna make some," he said, and pointed towards the pack of cocoa powder on the bench. 

"Sounds cool," she said with a shrug, and hopped up on the chair by the kitchen island. "I love hot chocolate."

"Me too," he smiled. "And cereal."

"Especially the sugary kind?" Emma guessed with a smirk. Dick glanced over his shoulder at her. 

"How'd you know?"

"You ate the kind of cereal that even my dad won't let me have because it's too sugary, and lemme tell you, he's never against sugar. _Never._ "

"Your parents sound very different from each other," Dick noted, doing that thing Damian did where he looked like he just found a puzzle piece of her and was one step closer to understanding her. She liked to baffle Damian. And she'd like to baffle Dick. 

"They're actually pretty alike," she said as she received her mug of hot cocoa. "So. Why do all of the Waynes have this one knowing stare that you do when you want to figure something out? Is it the whole... Night-business thing?" 

Dick stared at her for a few stunned moments, then he chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Not really."

"Really? 'Cause that's not a very normal stare. I've begun to call it 'the Wayne boy-stare'. Patent pending." Dick snorted. 

"You could call it that. I think Damian was just born with it. Me, Tim, and Jason, well, we had to learn. Not that Damian doesn't have a lot to learn, but still. Born with it, I tell you."

"Does it ever bother you that you're adopted? I mean, considering Damian is always an asshole about the whole 'I'm the one real son' thing?" Emma asked with a great Damian impression and sipped her chocolate. Dick looked a little stunned, and _score_ , she was totally baffling him. 

"Not really. Does it bother you that you're adopted?"

"Oh, turning the question onto me. Smart move. It does not, actually. I'm really happy I got adopted."

"Yeah, me too. Ever think about your real parents?" Dick questioned. Emma shrugged. 

"I don't remember a whole lot about them. What with..." _Those assholes that wiped away an entire year of my existence._ "Being small and all. I lost them when I was like seven, so I don't really remember them all that well. But I'm happy with the life I have now, so that's cool. Got friends, parents, uncles, aunts. It's nice."

They sipped in silence a while, Dick now staring into his cup like it had said something vaguely amusing. He had a small smile on his lips, and his hair fell into his eyes, morning mussed and all. Emma took in his blue tee, old and worn, and the sweatpants with a washed out logo of some word ending in 'PD'. 

It wasn't exactly what she imagined the son of a billionaire would be wearing, but she liked him better this way. Much better than Dick in a suit. 

"How did TJ, Hope, Layla, and Damian become friends in the first place?" Emma asked suddenly. Dick shrugged. 

"Hope and TJ have known each other since they were kids, I think. Layla and Hope had to sit next to each other in a class and practically fell in love with each other."

"What about Damian?" Emma asked when Dick didn't keep going. 

"I think Layla just saw him and thought 'salvation project'," Dick smiled softly, as if thinking back on something pleasant. "I'm kinda glad she did. I don't think he'd ever have made friends otherwise."

"He's not very friendly, I've noticed," Emma said and sipped her chocolate. "At least not to other people."

"'Not very friendly' is an understatement. What I want to know," he said, and slid a marshmallow over the stone surface, "is why he suddenly likes you so much."

"Beats me," Emma said, and stuffed the marshmallow into her mouth. Dick kept looking at her, as if he could solve the mystery by just staring at her. "I really don't know, Dick. Maybe I'm just that hot?"

"We both know he doesn't give that much of a crap about things like that."

"Maybe I'm just someone he can relate to," she offered quietly, and shrugged. Dick's piercing blue gaze was much more intimidating than Damian's. 

"Oh?" Dick asked casually. Emma shrugged again.

"Sorry bro, you have to be level 10 friend to unlock my tragic back-story. Or just bribe me with something truly dazzling or delicious." 

Dick slid another marshmallow over to her. Emma popped it into her mouth. 

"Sadly enough, I don't consider marshmallows appropriate bribes. Try again," she said with a smirk. Dick smiled then, a smile that showed off all of his charisma and charm. 

"I'll think of something," he said, and Emma smiled when her phone vibrated.

_I'm outside now. Gosh, his house is bigger than Tony's mansion._

Emma snickered, and jumped off the chair. 

"Thanks for the chocolate, Dick," she called as she walked into the hall, where Alfred stood, along with her friends. "Well, Steve's outside, so I'll be off."

"See you when school starts," Layla said as she hugged her, and Hope mumbled something of the same as she received a hug. TJ just grinned at her goofily, and when Emma wrapped her arms around Damian, he didn't hesitate. 

His arms came around her, still lightly, still a little scared of actually hugging her in earnest, but good enough. Emma grinned at him as she pulled back. 

"Well, I've had tons of fun. We should totally have like, a gazillion sleepovers," she said as she got her coat from Alfred. 

"I'm not sure the west wing would survive many more wars," Damian said, but his chest puffed a little with pride at her words.

"We could move it to another wing," Emma said as she slipped into her shoes. "And I'll think of other creative places to hide in by then."

"Unless I've already taken them."

"We'll see who wins, hotshot," Emma grinned and grabbed her things. "See ya!"

Emma waved at Steve, who came jogging up the stairs to help her, and loaded her stuff into the car. 

"Have fun?" Steve asked with a smile. He was wearing sunglasses, and talking quieter than usual.

"Yeah, it was great. I won a war. That was fun," she supplied as she buckled into the car. "Looks like you had fun last night too, Mr. Hungover."

"I'm not hungover," Steve protested. 

"It's winter, Steve."

"I know."

"You're wearing sunglasses."

"The sun reflects on snow and it could blind me as I drive. I'm just being safe."

"It's cloudy."

"The sun could come out," Steve pointed out feebly. 

"Steve," Emma laughed. "I'm not stupid. You're kind of insulting my intelligence here. How did you even get drunk?"

"I got buzzed, and it's all Reed's fault," Steve said as he turned onto the main road, leading to the city. 

"Did Bucky get buzzed too?" Emma asked distantly. 

"I'm pretty sure he didn't, but you can ask him when we get home," Steve replied with a smile. "Why do you want him to get drunk?"

"I feel like he needs it," she explains. "He needs a coping mechanism that isn't turning into a statue."

"I don't think you can force coping mechanisms on people, honey," Steve said gently. 

"But I can try," Emma protested. 

"You can, I suppose. Maybe something more healthy though. Like writing poetry or something."

"Buck isn't very poetic," she pointed out. Steve smiled, that soft, sad smile he had on when he was thinking back to the good ol' days. 

"He used to be able to wax poetic about a lot of things. Namely inappropriate things, but still." Emma laughed. 

"You think Bucky back then would've liked me?" she asked thoughtfully.

"He would've loved you like a sister," he smiled. "Like now, I think. Maybe not as his protector, but like his sister."

"You think I'm his protector?" Emma asked with a quirked eyebrow, watching the city coming into view and the cars rushing by around them.

"I know you're his protector. I don't think that's ever gonna change either," Steve murmured. 

"I know. I can totally live with that. Besties for life," she said with a beaming grin at him. Steve smirked. "So, what's for dinner?"

"We haven't even had lunch yet. You've only had breakfast," Steve pointed out as his eyes flicked to the rear view mirror, and then to the side view mirror. His lips turned into a thin line, but Emma didn't notice.

"I'm just sayin'-" Was all that Emma could get out before something rammed into their car, and it was sent flying.

Everything went black.

\---

Emma had never been hungover in her life, but if she had to take a guess at how it felt like, it had to be this. 

Her head was throbbing dangerously, and her arms were twisted behind her back in a way that made her shoulder hurt. It was probably pulled out of it's socket, actually, Emma thought as she tried to move it. Well wasn't that just fuckass fantastic. Faintly, she heard ringing in her ears, and why was she even in pain in the first place?

The car crash flashed before her closed eyes in slow motion, and she immediately clenched her hands in panic, trying to move, get up, get away-

Her hands were tied. 

Emma's hands were tied, and she was in pain, and she convinced herself that she was fine and that everything was okay, and that she wasn't nine anymore, and she knew that because Bucky called her 'doll' and Natasha's hair smelled like flowers and Damian had kissed her and Clint's hugs made her feel like she was rolled up in a blanket and she had a dog named Lucky who loved pizza. She couldn't have imagined that.

Right?

"Wake up," someone grumbled, and patted her cheeks, too hard, not gentle at all. Emma blearily opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was a clean-shaven face staring back at her. The man had brown hair, cut close to his head in practically a buzz cut, and his eyes were brown. His nose looked like it'd been broken a couple of times before, and Emma just about considered breaking it again with a well aimed headbutt. 

He smiled at her, all sharp teeth and no warmth, and Emma wanted to puke her guts out, because she knew that smile. 

"Hello, my little star," he said, his voice chocolatey smooth and soothing. It made Emma let out a whimpering noise she wasn't proud of. 

She knew this man. 

She knew him, she knew him, she knew him, but from where?

"Don't remember me? Well, not unexpected," he said in a sing-song voice. Emma swallowed and tasted blood. "But I remember you, my little star."

Emma's head was swimming with panic, and she tried to focus, blowing something up seemed appropriate with her mood, but he just shook his head gently. 

"I know all your tricks, little star. You don't think I was going to let you blow my head off, now did you? I have this," he said, and held up a remote with three buttons on it. 

Emma's entire body froze in involuntary shock, because she recognized him so vividly she felt _ill._

_Cut his finger off.  
_

_no.  
_

_Cut it off, Emma. Now.  
_

_don't wanna.  
_

_Do it.  
_

Her body twitched against the restraints, and he cackled, _Ralph_ cackled.

Ralph, the motherfucker that took her from the orphanage and took her to his stupid little school for training little girls into fucking murderers. Ralph, the _shithead_ that made her what she is.

"Oh you remember me now, huh? I suppose that's better, that gives you a little taste of what I'm going to do to you for slipping out of my grasp all those years ago. You're pretty good at staying hidden, I'll give you that, my little star, but I'll always find you," Ralph said, smiling.

"Well isn't that stalkerish of you," Emma exhaled, trying to swallow past the bile and blood wanting to mix in her mouth. Ralph raised his eyebrows with a satisfied smile. 

"You're so cute when you think you're being brave," he sighed happily. Emma tried to focus more, but her brain was doing that thing where it felt like someone had replaced her synapses with syrup, a feeling she was too familiar with. 

"Well at least I'm not whimping out like you're doing," she said as she took in the small room she was in. There was a spotlight from the ceiling that illuminated the two of them and the two of them only, and she was tied to a metal chair with wire that was digging into her thighs and her legs and her wrists. "Keeping me whammied."

"Oh, this?" Ralph said, and held up his remote device. Emma had seen that thing so many times that she knew exactly what it did and what it was. 

It was a scrambler. It was usually used to make radio signals scramble and make GPS devices and other things of the like useless. However, Emma remembered that this type of scrambler did much more. She remembered it from when she was nine, the way that they would turn the scramblers in everyone's rooms on when it was lights out, to keep their abilities dead. No blowing things up in that place, no no. 

The scrambler and her probable head trauma made her head feel like death and her stomach even worse, and she so felt like puking on Ralph's shoes, but she didn't want to give him that kind of satisfaction. He was a sick bastard like that. Liked to see them suffer. 

"This isn't me being a whimp. This is me being smart. I know you could kill me, my little star, but I have some things to get done before I die. Namely, getting you back up to par. I can see you've been slacking off since you got loose."

"Oh my god, can't you let that go?" Emma murmured as she tried to feel out how damaged she was.

"You murdered all of my little girls. I can't help but be mad at you for surviving," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Man, you're fucked up."

"Ah, but what about you?" Emma stayed silent, staring at him. She was probably going to get a black eye, what with the scrambler keeping all her healing in check, along with her explosive powers. 

"Where's the guy?" she asked instead, a sudden feeling of dread overtaking her. Ralph raised an eyebrow. 

"The guy in the car with you?" he asked. She refused to nod, but glared at him enough for him to get the message. "Oh him. We left him in the car. We didn't want him. We wanted you, my little star."

"Oh man," she wheezed, but her heart was beating so fast with relief it might as well be fluttering out of her chest. Aaand, yup, that was a broken rib. She couldn't have gotten this beaten up by the car crash. Well, she saw why Ralph did what he did, making her damaged enough that she wouldn't be able to escape but still repairable for when he needed her to be. "That was stupid of you." 

"Because it's Captain America?" Ralph asked, looking amused. "I don't think he'll be a problem."

"I totally forgot how stupid you were, it's been too long," Emma said with a smirk at him. "You think the only person coming after me will be Captain America? You fucked up, bro, and you're in so much trouble."

Ralph pressed a button on the remote, and she gasped as the world began swimming around her even more intensely, making her feel even more nauseous. 

"Don't you worry about me, my little star. I'll get you back into programming and deal with whatever tries to stop me. You should be worrying about yourself."

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I fucked up the Italian and French, I tried googling things and just... Tell me if I'm wrong, okay? Thanks.


	59. Guilt And Painful Remembrances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo look at how fast I got this chapter up!  
> WARNING tho because there are some very graphic descriptions of violence and kind of torture, even though it's not very gorey. There's a lot of blood though, so if that makes you squeamish, I suggest you avoid those parts.  
> Anyway, thank you for staying with me this long, holy crap, and enjoy this... kind of horrible chapter.  
> Love u all much and graciously <3

 

Okay, Tony may have been panicking a little. 

No, fucking scratch that, Tony was freaking out more than a little, he was _freaking the fuck out,_ because Hill had called him six minutes ago and told him that the love of his life and his best friends' kid had just been in a car crash. 

Tony was running through the halls of Shield towards Medical with Petey in his arms and Bucky hot on his heels, and Tony was not going to break down and cry in the middle of the damn Shield headquarters. 

It was kind of ironic that Steve might have gotten himself killed in a car crash, seeing as he fought aliens on a regular basis in a _damn spandex suit_. 

Tony was gonna make him wear fricking bubble wrap after this. 

He finally arrived at the doors to Medical, and was first hit with repulsion, because Tony hated Medical more than a lot of things. He pushed through the hatred, because Steve was in there, and Steve had to be okay, he would not forgive himself for being petty if Steve wasn't okay in there. 

So he dramatically burst through the sliding doors, Bucky just a step behind him, which resulted in him nearly slamming into Tony, because he was frozen on the spot, looking around to try to locate Steve. 

Hill was standing in the hallway, looking annoyed. 

"Yes, Sir. I'll keep the information out of his reach until they return. Hang on." She didn't even look up, just pointed towards a door, and Tony ran towards it, slamming that door open too.

Steve was sitting on the hospital bed, looking worse for wear and mildly annoyed, yeah, but not close to dying, and Tony could feel his chest heave from both the panic ebbing away into relief and the sprint here. 

"Dada!" Peter exclaimed, and Steve looked up, annoyed expression breaking into relief as Tony tackled his super soldier in a kiss, with their child squished between them. 

"I would've murdered you if you'd gone and died in something so anti-climatic as a car crash," Tony said, and his voice cracked a little, which was weird, along with the burning in his throat. Steve kissed him again, and then took Peter out of Tony's arms. 

"I know," Steve said gently. 

"Where the fuck is Emma?" came Bucky's sudden, mildly panicked question. Steve swallowed. 

"They took her. Some guys rammed us, made the car flip, and Emma got knocked out, and when I got out to fight them, I thought she'd be fine in there, but they weren't trying to get to me, they were trying to get _her_."

Bucky's face morphed from mildly panicked to 10-seconds-away-from-going-into-Winter-Soldier-mode, and Tony took a deep breath. 

"Is Shield tracking them?"

"The car they came in didn't have a license plate," Steve said, his jaw tensed.

"Did you get a good look at anyone of them?" Bucky asked, regaining control of his breathing. 

"No, they were wearing masks."

"Specific masks or just black skimasks?"

"They kind of looked like your old mask, the one with the goggles. And a black hat over that," he replied. Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

Emma was kidnapped. 

"Well, this is going to be a hoot to tell Nat and Clint when they get home," Tony said, his face tense. Bucky spun on his heel, and walked back out of the room, and straight towards Hill.

He grabbed the tablet she was holding and threw it into the wall behind him, and immediately, six weapons were aimed at him, but he gave no shits and leaned closer to an unimpressed Maria Hill. 

"You better be looking for her if you know what's good for you," he growled, and Hill raised an eyebrow at him. 

"We're looking into it," she said calmly, and he slammed his metal fist into the wall next to her head, making her look mildly annoyed. 

"I know bullshit when I see it. Prove it."

"I would've been able to, if my tablet wasn't shattered," Hill said, her lips in a tight line. 

"I wouldn't have thrown it if I knew any other way to get your attention without getting myself shot."

"You could try a 'hello'. I hear it's used in many cultures to get somebody's attention." Bucky flashed his teeth at her, and Steve was pulling him back suddenly, and since when were Bucky's emotions this out of control?

"I'll send the files we have to Stark," Hill said, giving Bucky another look. "If you need anything else, you have my number."

"Thank you, Agent Hill," Steve said politely, and lead Bucky out of Medical, with Tony and Peter close to his side. 

\---

"You know what I miss most about the old building?" came Ralph's voice from somewhere in the distance. 

"The small children at your disposal?" Emma assumed, focusing on not feeling the searing wet pain on her exposed thighs. He'd cut her there, six times, she knew that from the throbbing in them.

"The rooms. Do you remember the rooms?" 

Cold, small, sterile. Rooms without windows, steel benches. Her bed, small and hard. She remembered the rooms. 

"Oh yeah. Such a doozy they were," she exhaled. There was a glint of steel, and a new stripe was added, to her shoulder this time, a sharp slice through her skin that made her hiss. "Motherfu-" 

"Watch your mouth. Pretty girls like you shouldn't cuss," Ralph said distantly. Emma rolled her eyes. 

"Sexist pig," she muttered. 

"Say that again, my little star?" he said gently, the bloody knife dancing over her shirt. It was one of her favorites too, Damian's old hoodie, soiled with blood and cuts. She wondered if she'd ever see him again. 

"I said 'sexist pig'," Emma repeated, letting her head turn towards him to look at him dazedly. The scrambler was on, but on the lower setting, where everything in her brain was humming, but still making everything clear enough that pain felt like explosions in her body. Her shoulder was back to normal now, though. Some healing was slipping through the cracks, and thank god for that. 

The knife danced over her exposed shoulder, and she wanted to yell until her lungs burned from lack of air, because this was too much for her. 

This was too much like back then. 

It was coming back in flashes, the rooms, the hallways, Ralph's smiling face constantly somewhere in the background. She remembered the needles being stuck into her skin, the way it felt to pull someones nails out, the way she'd stabbed knives through people's palms. 

But always resisting. 

She hadn't been a willing weapon back then, and she sure as shit wasn't one now. 

Ralph smiled, and then he slapped her. 

It made her ears ring with the noise it made, but she defiantly turned her head right back at him, glaring in a way that would've made Bucky proud.

"Don't you worry. I'll put you back in your right place," Ralph mused, his smile distant. Suddenly, his face turned blank, and he pressed a finger to his ear. "What? Incompetent dumbass, get Gonzalez to fix it." He sighed, and stuffed his knife into his belt. "I'll be there. Don't touch jackshit, you hear me?" His finger fell from his ear, and he smiled at her. 

"Duty calls? No problem, I get it. I'll just help myself to something to drink while you're gone," Emma said, smiling at him sweetly. 

"Don't worry, I won't leave you all alone, my little star," he promised, and her stomach lurched at the thought, but she kept the bravado up and grinned just a little wider. He took a few steps back into the darkness outside of their little circle, and she could hear steps around her.

Another man came into the circle, a shorter man with medium length, black hair. His eyes were brown, his chin sharp, and he had a shark grin on his face. 

"So I get to play now, huh?" he said, his voice unusually high pitched. His arms were bulging with muscle, and he stood confidently in front of her. 

At least she didn't recognize this one. 

She opened her mouth to retort, because _seriously_ , that was just too cheesy, but was immediately stopped when a fist connected with her cheek.

Emma spat blood and made a noise between a laugh and a sob. 

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine," she breathed. The man backhanded her this time, and she let her head loll back, gritting her teeth against the sharp pain from the cut on her cheek. "I bet you didn't get held enough as a baby."

Another slap.

"Not a talker, huh? Too bad. I was feeling up for some intelligent conversation now that Ralph's gone." The fucker had the audacity to smile at her.

"Not a fan of Ralph?" he asked, and started circling around Emma's steel chair, apparently welded to the floor, if the way it didn't wiggle when she moved was any indication.

"The guy who kidnapped me? Surprisingly not," Emma said, absently picking with bloodied fingers at the wire around her wrists. Something had to give, there was no way she was gonna be stuck here forever. She wasn't gonna let that happen.

"Well then you're not gonna like me either," the other man said.

"You got a name for me to scream angrily then?" Emma asked as he pulled a goddamn knife out of his belt, seriously, enough with the knives. Couldn't he just punch her? That'd be a lot better than bleeding out.

"You can call me... Max."

"I'm gonna call you Frenchy. I bet that's what all the girls call you," Emma drawled, and was rewarded with a slit on her arm, and _fuck_ , that wasn't a light cut. The pain throbbed in her arm as blood dripped from it, and Frenchy held up the remote with a grin as he pressed a button.

Her head felt like it was going to split into pieces from the abuse, and she actually wondered if this was how she was going to die.

Then she thought about her mom. Would Natasha have given up? She sure as shit wouldn't have. Emma glared at the remote, feeling her eyes burn with tears as her head felt close to exploding, and then she felt a sharp hit to the back of her head. 

The world was doused in black ink, and her head fell forward as her eyes slipped closed, dead to the world. 

\---

Natasha was looking at Clint with her beautiful eyes, trailing her fingers over his abs as she unzipped his slacks with her teeth, because Natasha was awesome like that. Clint's hands were lax by his sides, mouth a little open and eyes lustblown. 

She liked watching him like this. She liked knowing that Clint didn't just want her for her body, and she could tell by the loving way that he tripped out of his pants and fell flat on the bed, and laughed. 

Before they'd become Avengers, after missions where nothing violent had gone down, Clint would drag her back to his place and they'd drink and play poker and watch horrible movies, to feel that the other was safe, that they were fine. 

Now, Natasha was laughing softly at Clint as he wriggled out of his pants entirely and like he didn't just curse all pants ever made. She was wearing garters and a thong, and her dress was a pile on the floor, but she couldn't bring herself to feel bummed that Clint had broken the hot and heavy mood. 

If anything, it made her love the dork even more. 

Clint looked up at her from the covers, grinning stupidly. His lenses were out, and her wig was off, but his hair still looked too dark, and her false eyelashes were still on. 

Natasha didn't care. Even though she should, because really, Clint's hair didn't look very good in just that shade of brown.

"We should shower," Natasha remarked, and Clint made a protesting noise. 

"I vote awesome sex, then shower with more awesome sex, then sex in the bed again, still awesome, and then sleep. 

"You think you can handle that?" Natasha asked with a quirked eyebrow, and Clint looked so put off that she had to laugh again. 

"I'm kinda offended," Clint announced as he rolled over and grabbed her by the hips, urging her to straddle him. She placed her hands on his shoulders for leverage, and distantly admired the firm muscles there. "I thought we'd already determined that I can always keep up with you."

"Not always," Natasha said as she pushed his crisp white shirt over his shoulders.

"Okay, not when it comes to stretching, but let's face it, few people are as bendy as you are," Clint said, and made an appreciative hum as she bent down to nip at his neck. 

A shrill ringtone went off, and Natasha sat up again, just as Clint groaned. 

"We're on a mission! We're not even supposed to have our phones, and you bring it," Clint accused as Natasha swung off him and strolled over to his bag. 

"You did, actually," Natasha said, and pulled Clint's phone out of his bag. 

"Oh."

"It's Stark," she said with furrowed eyebrows. 

"Answer it?" Clint suggested as he sat up on the bed, shrugged his shirt entirely off. 

"Romanoff," Natasha said into the phone.

"Right. Hi," came Steve's nervous voice. "I uh. How'd the mission go?"

"That's not why you're calling," Natasha replied, worry all of a sudden replacing any other emotion. Suddenly it got harder to swallow, as the worry pushed up her throat, completely uninvited.

"No," Steve admitted. "It's about Emma."

"What about her?" Natasha asked, and noticed Clint's eyebrows furrowing with concern. 

"She's been kidnapped," Steve said in his captain voice, and Natasha didn't do something as dramatic as drop the phone, but she drew a sharp intake of breath as Clint was suddenly standing in front of her, grabbing the phone from her. 

"Stark? Cap. What?!" Clint exclaimed in outrage, and yes, there was the feeling Natasha was trying to find, but all she could feel was this hole inside of her chest that ached as it tried to suck her in. Kidnapped. "How the fuck-" He apparently got cut off by Steve, because his lips closed and turned into a thin line as he ran a hand over his face. "Yeah. Got it. We'll get back home ASAP. Thanks, Steve."

He hung up and looked tempted to launch the phone out the window, so Natasha grabbed his strong, bare bicep. Their eyes met, and Natasha saw him clench his jaw. 

"Emma's kidnapped," he said.

"I know," Natasha said. "We're going to find her. No matter what." Clint nodded sharply, and took a deep breath. 

"We gotta tell Coulson to put us back on the first flight out of here," he said, already typing on his phone. 

"I'll be in the shower," she murmured, but she was pretty sure Clint barely even registered what she'd just said, mostly because he was so focused on the task at hand that he wasn't focusing on hearing things. She waved at him to catch his attention, and his blue eyes snapped to the motion. " **Shower** ," she signed, and he nodded and did a thumbs up.

She strode into the bathroom with the confidence of a woman who knew she could have the world at her feet, until she closed the door. 

Natasha leaned against the door and swallowed hard. 

Was she doing this right?

Protective wasn't a word people would use to describe the Black Widow. Natasha was considered cold, ruthless, uncaring, unloving, and certainly not mother material. The hole in her chest felt more and more like it was trying to suck her lungs in, her breath was coming in short puffs. Was this what it felt like to be a mother? This sickly kind of horror?

She'd only felt this empty when things had been taken from her. 

Natasha leaned against the sink, and met her reflection's gaze. 

"I can manage this," she told her reflection. "I can handle this."

 _This is being a mother_. 

Natasha could deal with being scared. She wasn't scared often, but when she was, she was so scared that it made her feel ill. This was practically one of those moments. 

Emma was kidnapped. 

She took deep breaths as she leaned against the bathroom sink even further, closing her eyes for a moment to gather herself. 

There was a knock on the door. 

"Tasha?"came Clint's muffled voice. Natasha opened the door to see him standing there, shirtless and looking about as miserable and scared as she felt. "I'm fucking horrified," he relayed quietly, his eyes so blue and beautiful. 

Natasha wrapped her arms around his neck and relished in the way he pulled her closer, pressed his entire body to hers. 

"I know," she murmured as she stroked his back in little circles, soothing. "Me too." He squeezed her a little tighter, and seemed to melt a little, leaning a little bit more of his weight on her as he sighed into her hair. 

No, this was being a _parent_ , Natasha thought. And she and Clint were in this together.

\---

Bucky paced the floor, looking for all the world like he'd rather be strangling somebody. 

"What's taking so damn long?" he suddenly snapped, and Tony raised an eyebrow. 

"We all want to find her, calm down, alright?" Steve said soothingly. 

"I've looked everywhere," Tony said, motioning towards the screens in the air. "I've scanned all the cameras, and so far, we've only tracked the van that took her to here." He swept some screens away and a map appeared as he pointed to a spot on it. "That's when we lose them."

Bucky looked even more murderous, and Darcy grabbed his hand. 

"So that's it? You can't track it with satellites or anything? You're supposed to be a technical genius," she argued.

"I am a genius," Tony said, petulantly. 

"Prove it," Bucky growled. Tony rolled his eyes, and turned towards his screens, floating blue and bright in the air. His hand swiped through the air, and a keyboard appeared underneath his hands. 

"Jarvis, get me the codes for those government satellites," he said, and Steve raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you stealing those codes from the government?" Steve asked, and Tony shrugged. 

"Borrowing. They won't even notice," he said dismissively, as his fingers danced over the keys. Steve looked sceptical, but let Tony keep going. 

A video feed appeared on the right, of the roof of a white van, skimming through traffic hastily. It ran the same route that Tony had mapped out, and then swerved onto a dirt road, leading into a forest. 

"What's in there? Any warehouses nearby? Abandoned buildings?" Bucky asked, feeling maybe a spike of hope.

"Nothing," Tony said, shaking his head. "It just looks like 15 miles of empty woods."

"How about we go check it out? Maybe there's something there," Bucky said, tapping his fingers on Tony's desk. Tony glanced down on his fingers, and then nodded. 

"Sure thing. I'll suit up and we'll leave. You guys hold down the fort. Clint and Natasha should be coming home soon," Tony said, motioning for Bucky to follow him as they walked towards Tony's runway. 

"Be careful," Steve called out. 

"Careful's my middle name!"

"I thought it was Edward," Bucky said with a raised eyebrow. 

"It's an expression," Darcy explained, and stood on her tippy toes to give his cheek a kiss. "Keep us updated."

"Will do," Tony said as he walked into his armor. Bucky just about managed to grab a jacket and throw it over his shoulders before Tony was grabbing him and flying off. 

Bucky did not make a startled noise. Definitely not. 

\---

Emma was dizzy, so dizzy as she opened her eyes. She was alone now, but only her hands were tied. She wasn't stuck to a chair anymore, she was face down on a cement floor, and immediately, she tried to move. 

Her entire body was in various degrees of pain, the most pain radiating from her broken ribs and bloody thighs. Slowly, she struggled herself onto her knees to inspect the damage. 

Emma's thighs had burn marks from where the wire had cut into her skin, and she didn't even want to keep looking at them, they were so bloody and scratched. She took a deep breath, and looked around to see white, sterile walls, and a cement floor with blood all over it. Her blood. 

The urge to vomit was sudden, but then she connected the dots as someone turned a scrambler on, making her jerk violently against her restraints. The blasting headache made her groan, and she looked up at Ralph, Frenchy, and some other guy standing there and looking blank, not grinning sickly or looking horrified. 

All blank. 

And shit, did that terrify her.

"Now that we've warmed you up to your new arrangements, my little star, we're going to get you back up to date on your other... Skills," Ralph said, the corners of his mouth lifting to form a wicked smile, and it made Emma's skin crawl.

"No," she said, and she sounded hoarse, as if she'd been screaming but couldn't remember it. Which, seeing as she was back in Ralph's hands, was totally possible.

"Yes," he replied. She shook her head, even though it hurt like fuck, and he grabbed her chin forcefully, pulling it upward to make her look him in the eye. "Yes, my little star. I'll even be nice, and let you kill him."

He pointed toward Frenchy, and Emma tried crawling backwards toward the wall she knew was behind her to get away from his now grasping hands, when Ralph tutted and pulled her onto her feet. Frenchy looked more than a little terrified, which, well. It made her angry and proud at the same time, that she could be small and bloody and bruised, and still scare the shit out of adults. 

"Untie me then," Emma demanded, outlining a quick, probably more than desperate, plan. She could maim Frenchy and then smash the scrambler someone was bound to have on them, and then kill Ralph and then get out of here, run until her legs gave out. She could do that, if only Ralph untied her. 

"Sure, my little star," he said, his voice sugar sweet and coaxing as he pushed her forward until she was standing maybe three feet away from the terrified man she called Frenchy. 

The wire slipped free from her wrists, and she took a mere second to figure out how movable her hands were, before she punched Frenchy so hard in the sternum that she heard something crack. He wheezed as he hit the ground, and made noises like he was choking, but Emma didn't care as long as he was down.

Immediately she turned to give Ralph a solid kick in the face to send him flying, when it felt like an axe split her skull. Emma screamed with pain as she fell down onto her hands and knees, tears filling her eyes. 

"You do what I say, when I say it," Ralph said calmly. "Nothing more, nothing less. You know this, my little star. Nod." Slowly, Emma nodded, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Good girl." 

The guy that wasn't Frenchy grabbed her hands and tied them back up, but she only distantly noticed, because her head was being split into a billion pieces and it hurt more than her cut up wrists. 

Finally the pain subsided, and Emma toppled gracelessly onto the floor, her cheek scratching against the cold, hard floor. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, my little star," Ralph said, and stroked her arm almost gently, and Emma rolled over onto her back instead, to glare at him. 

"Fuck you," she screamed as he left, and her voice cracked as it ended in a sob, and Ralph tossed her an unbothered look over his shoulder, the way you look at an ant you're about to step on. 

Then he left, the guy that wasn't Frenchy dragging Frenchy's body after him. A thick metal door slammed shut, and the white room was plunged into darkness. Emma managed to get up on her knees again, and slumped against the cement wall. 

She felt her lip tremble, and when the tears ran down her cheeks, they stung in her cuts and Emma felt suddenly, utterly defeated.

\---

Tony landed on the dirt road where the van had been seen last, and let Bucky climb off his back to drop onto the ground with straight legs. 

"You know that's so bad for your knees, right?" Tony remarked as the Winter Soldier started following the tire tracks marking the dirt. "You should have Steve teach you how to do that ballerina drop he does."

"Shut up," Bucky replied. 

"I'm just saying, that's gonna kill you someday."

"A lot of other things will kill me before my knees do," Bucky said as he started jogging along the tracks, Tony following him in the air. 

"That's ominous," Tony remarked as he scanned the trail. The tiretracks were hours old, and he felt something cold settle in his stomach. He didn't tell Bucky, though. 

"With an old job like mine, it's bound to get ominous." Bucky wasn't even entirely sure that Steve and Natasha had managed to hunt down all of the scientists keeping alive, but he knew that the old freezer box they'd kept him in was safe in one of Starks warehouses, somewhere far away from him. He did trust Natasha to be thorough, though.

"Any enemies that could threaten the others?" Tony asked, almost casually. Bucky distantly touched the scratched bark of a treetrunk as he walked past it, seeing a bunch of snapped branches in it's general area. Maybe there was an argument in the car, someone grabbed the wheel a little too hard and swerved. 

The van should be easier to locate with scratches on the side. If they still had it.

"Possibly," Bucky said thoughtfully. "I don't think they would succeed, however. Natalia is trained too well to let any of that happen."

"So nobody's going to call you up and make you go Liam Neeson on them?" Tony clarified, and Bucky felt a sudden wave of nausea hit him. 

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?" Bucky growled up at him, and Tony put his hands on his hips.

"I'm taking this seriously!"

"Why're you joking about things like that while we're trying to find my best friend then?" Bucky snapped back. 

"It's a defense mechanism," Tony muttered. "I joke. It's my thing."

"It's a stupid thing. You're stupid," Bucky growled at him, and kicked a tree. 

"You sound like a third grader."

"Shut up."

"The searing pain of the comeback," Tony said dramatically, holding his hand to the arc reactor. Bucky took a calming breath before he did something stupid, like, say, use Tony as an axe to chop this damn tree down.

They walked into a clearing, where the white van was standing, all doors flung wide open. On the side, a huge scratch could be seen, identifying this as the van that took Emma. A body was lying by the opened drivers side, bullet in the back of the head. A few flies were flying around the man's skull. Tony landed by the back of the truck, and Bucky crouched by the body, rolling it over. 

One of the masks that Steve had described was on the ground where his face should've been, and the look on the man's face was shocked. He hadn't seen it coming. 

"Well this is no doubt the van we're looking for," Tony announced. "I'd say it's been here a while though."

Too long.

"There isn't anything nearby?" Bucky asked, looking around as he dropped the corpse back onto the ground. His heart was beating faster in his chest. Too long. They'd taken too long, and now Bucky was going to have to add his best friend to the list of people he'd killed, let them get killed. 

"Doesn't look that way. Looks like they switched cars, dumped their driver, and took off."

"We're following their trail," Bucky said, immediately popping back up and jogging over to the other pair of tracks. 

Only to notice that there were two of them. 

"There are two sets of tracks," Tony remarked from above him, and Bucky felt his stomach twist. 

"She could've gone either way," Bucky stated out loud, and Tony's faceplate flipped open. He looked down on Bucky with determined eyes. 

"I go left, you right?" he suggested, and Bucky nodded and took off, practically sprinting down the trail. If Emma was dead, he didn't know if he could keep living. That wasn't a life he was willing to live, without Emma. Not getting to see her grow up, not getting to feel her tiny hands on his face, not hearing her talk about something excitedly, always so excited. 

It made his heart feel painfully constricted, and he stopped a moment to catch his breath, as if that was the reason he was feeling this way. 

"Goddammit, Em, you better be alive," he growled to nobody in particular, and kept running down the trail. 

Tony linked Steve in. 

"Did you find the van?" Steve asked from his little video frame in the top left corner, where Tony saw him feed their son a late night snack. Peter would be going to bed soon, Natasha and Clint would be coming home soon, and the crisis would bear heavier on them with the worried agents around. This would make for a tiring evening. 

Tony was ready to do anything in his power to find Emma as soon as possible. 

"We found the van," Tony confirmed. "They'd ditched it, and the driver was dead. Two pairs of tracks led in different directions from the scene."

"You let Bucky go off alone?" Steve asked, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

"He's a big boy, Steve. He'll be fine," Tony said as he scanned the tiretracks. A basic car model popped up in his line of vision. Impossible to indentify without a license plate or a color or any other clue than just what model. These guys were smart.

"His best friend has been kidnapped and he's got a guilt complex to match yours," came Darcy's voice from the camera. "He's probably dying with guilt right now. Don't let him die."

"Calm down, he's just following the other trail," Tony replied.

"If he dies, nobody will ever find your body," came Darcy's voice, and her head was suddenly upside down and glaring at him.

"Got it," Tony said, speeding up a little.

And then suddenly, the trail was gone.

"What the fuck?" Tony exclaimed.

"Language," Steve said, automatically. "What happened?"

"The tiretracks? Yeah, they're gone."

"Gone how?" Steve asked, surprise in his voice as Tony flew backwards, twisted to see the tiretracks in the snow.

"They just... Stop. In the middle of nowhere. No footprints around it at all, or in front of it."

"How is that even possible?" Steve asked. "No car there?"

"No. They must've driven the car up here, then backed up and gone back," Tone realized, and wanted to slap himself in the face for his stupidity. "These guys know what they're doing. This wasn't a rookie job."

He flew back to the clearing with the van and found Bucky leaning against the hood of it, his head resting on his right arm, and dents in the hood suggesting that he'd hit it a few times with the metal one.

"No luck?" Tony asked, and Bucky looked up at him, a lost look in his eyes that made Tony's sappy heart hurt. He shook his head.

"The tire tracks just stop."

"Mine too." Bucky's lost look turned to something empty, and he nodded. "We'll send Shield out here to check it out," he promised, because Bucky had the look of a kicked puppy. A ninety-seven year old, murdering, kicked puppy, but still, the kicked puppy look was hard to maintain for a man with his size and bulk and skills.

Oh man, was Tony screwed when Peter started using his doe-eyes for evil.

"We should head back," Bucky said, the kicked puppy face turning into Winter Soldier mode. "Natalia and Barton will be back soon. They'll want an update."

Tony heaved Bucky up on his back again, and took off into the sky, having Jarvis call Hill as he went.

\---

 


	60. Pillow Talk And Deals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter sixty???? Over 200 000 words???? Oh dear. When will this ever END.  
> It was really fun to see you guys speculate about who would find Emma in the last chapter! I hope I don't disappoint. (Also I'm well aware that when Emma is narrating, she's thinking/saying things in weird tenses and stuff but just... It felt better that way?)  
> Anyway... Here's this?  
> Enjoy <3

 

When it turned out that Clint and Natasha wouldn't be coming back until at least the next morning, everyone said a subdued goodnight and went to bed. Bucky, however, had trouble staying _in_ bed, much to Darcy's chagrin.

"James," Darcy sighed into her pillow as he got out of the bed for the nth time in an hour. "James, James, James. We'll get her back. There is nothing in this world that will ever be able to keep us away from her. Okay? Please come back to bed."

Bucky paced around the bed. 

"We're losing time," he said, shaking his head as he clenched his fists. "It's been over sixteen hours since she was taken. Do you know how far across the world they could've taken her by now? They could be in China right now, having settled in already, taken her to-"

"Bucky," came Darcy's voice from the bed, and she sat up, her hair tousled from turning and twisting, and her eyes closed. "It's great that you want to find her, we all really really do too, but think. Is there anything you can do for Emma right now? Like, at this moment now?"

Bucky stared at her for a moment, then shook his head slowly. 

"The one thing you can do for her right now, is sleep, so that you can keep looking for her tomorrow and be sharp enough to see little things you totally would've missed if you hadn't slept. Please come to bed," Darcy pleaded, and reached a hand out towards him. Hesitantly, he interlocked his fingers with hers, and let himself be dragged back to bed. 

"I wouldn't miss anything 'cause I hadn't slept," he remarked as she rolled up in his arms, tangling their legs together. Bucky felt comforted by the contact, even though Emma was off god-knows-where. Darcy laughed softly from his embrace.

"I know. It's just something I tell myself to get your attractive ass into bed," Darcy said, patting his shoulder affectionately. He lay there silently, letting his breathing slow down to what sounded like sleep, even though he wasn't even close to sleeping, and Darcy only confirmed that she was magical by punching him lightly in the chest. "Stop pretend-sleeping. I will not hesitate to make you sleep," she mumbled, and crawled up to splay on top of him. 

"How would you do that?"

"I have my ways," she announced and snuggled further into his chest. Bucky wrapped his arms around her tightly. Emma was in danger, but at least Darcy was safe. At least he hadn't failed her. 

"Why do you stay with me?" Bucky asked suddenly into the darkness, and he felt Darcy tense in his arms. 

"James," she sighed, in a way that indicated that he was being stupid. 

"I'm just wonderin'. Seeing as I'm..."

"Don't you even dare finish that sentence, James Buchanan Barnes," Darcy interrupted, sitting up to straddle his hips. She balanced herself on top of him by putting both her hands on his broad chest, and Bucky found his hands gravitating towards her hips to steady her. "I'm with you because I like you. I'm with you because your humor sucks and it's adorable. I'm with you because you make me happy. Got it?"

The way she said it, with such fierce determination, it made Bucky weak at the knees. She really was too good for him.

"I'm bound to break your heart," he said quietly, so quietly that she wouldn't have heard him if she hadn't been concentrating. 

"We're bound to fight sometime," she said thoughtfully. "All couples fight, but I really think it'll take a lot to break my heart. Honestly, unless you break up with me, the one thing you could do to break my heart would be cheating on me."

Bucky sat up so fast he nearly slammed his nose into hers. 

"I would never," he said, grabbing her wrists, "ever, cheat on you."

"Steve told me you used to be quite the charmer," Darcy remarked with an odd laugh, and Bucky shook his head and leaned closer to her. 

"How much of me is really the old me?"

"More and more of you is becoming the old you."

"I'm never gonna be that guy again," Bucky said lowly, shaking his head. "I'm not nearly as put together as he was. Sometimes I manage, yeah, sure, but I ain't ever gonna be him again. I don't think I _can_ be him."

"I like you this way." He raised an eyebrow at her, and Darcy grinned. "Why would I be dating you if I didn't like you?"

Bucky let a small smile play on his lips as his metal hand came up to cup Darcy's cheek, and pulled her into a soft kiss. She sighed happily into his mouth, and proceeded to shove him back down onto the bed. 

"Can we sleep now?" she pleaded as she thumped her head back onto Bucky's chest.

"You go ahead," he murmured as her hair intruded his nose. Darcy looked up at him. 

"We'll get her back. I promise," she said softly, and he nodded. 

Realizing she wasn't gonna get further than that, Darcy sighed into his chest and settled back down. Bucky stayed up until the morning lights began to creep in through the cracks in the curtains, and then slipped out of Darcy's octopus embrace. 

He dressed in sweats and a shirt and pulled his hair up into a scrunchie that was blue. With that, he took the elevator to the common floor, only to find Tony sitting by the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on it. 

"Couldn't sleep?" Bucky asked, and Tony turned to look at him, his face contemplative. 

"Not a wink. You?" Bucky shook his head and headed for the coffee machine, only to find a pot brewed. It wasn't scalding, but it was warm enough to drink. He poured himself a cup, and decided to be nice and sit by Tony. 

Stark seemed to be in his own world, his look pinned to Bucky but completely unseeing. Bucky kind of liked it that way. 

They could've sat in silence for hours, which they probably did, until the elevator bell dinged, and Steve stepped out into the kitchen with a babbling Peter in his arms. His blue eyes sought out Tony's, and then he sighed. 

"Here," Steve said, plopping Peter into Tony's arms and giving his hair a kiss. 

"Mama!" Peter squealed, loud enough to snap Tony out of it apparently, because he lit up immediately, and made a cooing noise at his son. 

"Hi Peter Pan! You're such a morning person. You got that from your pop," Tony said as he bounced Peter in his lap, earning baby shrieks of pleasure in return. 

"Genetically impossible," Steve reminded him from the kitchen. 

"Jarvis, what time is it?" Tony asked in between wooshing noises as he made circular motions with Peter in the air, who seemed to be loving it. 

"It's five-thirty am, Sir."

"You're up for your morning run? Right now?" Tony asked with a look at Steve. 

"Yeah. I need to clear my head before we all go crazy in here," Steve said. "Care to join me?"

"Yes," Bucky said, standing up quickly and startling everyone but Peter. "I'd like to go on a run with you."

"Okay," Steve said with a confused but pleased smile. "Grab a hoodie and we'll go."

Bucky was putting his shoes on along with Steve when the doors to the elevator slipped open, and Natasha and Clint barged in. 

"Alright, who the hell has our kid!" Clint yelled, and suddenly a morning run was off the table.

\---

After a lot of explaining, and a call to Bruce over in Austrailia, everyone gathered in the common room, Thor holding Peter as his parents paced the room along with Natasha and Clint.

"So in all this time, you've found _nothing_?" Natasha asked, her voice loud and cutting. Tony muttered something, and Natasha looked, if possible, even more angry. "Shield technology can't find her? And _your_ technology can't find her? Do we even have any leads on who might have taken her?"

The silence of the room made her want to punch a wall. 

"Right," Clint said, and sank down into the couch, leaning his head in his hands. Steve put a comforting hand on his shoulder with a grim look. 

"I know what you're feeling. I can't imagine what I would do if Peter-"

"But this isn't Peter!" Clint exclaimed, and shot back up abruptly, glaring at Steve. "This is _not_ Peter. This is Emma. Our traumatized, raped, exploding, practically teenage daughter. That's gotten kidnapped. Who has been put through torture, been forced to torture, been forced to hide, hurt, all alone. This is _not_ Peter, and you do not understand. At all."

With that, Clint stormed out of the room, and Natasha ran those facts through her head as Steve looked wounded. Emma could make things explode. The footage showed that she had been dragged out of the car, unconscious. But she should've woken up by now. She _should_ have made a hell of a noise to get away. 

Which led Natasha to the conclusion that she couldn't use her powers, which was strange. Emma had been learning how to control her explosiveness, she could even make something explode by concentrating on it, and if she wasn't concentrating and she was scared, it would go off.

So why wasn't that happening now?

"Who would want to kidnap a little girl like that?" Natasha asked the silent room at large. "No, who would want to kidnap _Emma_ like that? That was a targeted kidnapping. They wanted her and her only, since Steve is in one piece. What enemies should she have, logically? Circus people?"

"No, the circus people didn't hate her enough back in the day to kidnap her," Bucky said slowly, thoughtfully, from where he was leaning against a window. "They've probably forgotten her by now." 

"Barney?" Tony suggested. 

"I don't think Barney would ram into a car she's in and then use like, six guys to get to her and steal her. At least from what Emma's told me about him, he doesn't seem like he'd want to hurt her," Darcy said with a light shrug and sat down in the couch next to Thor and Peter. 

"What about the institute?" Steve asked, drumming his fingers on the wall next to him.

"They only found small girl bodies, right?" Bucky said with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

"Emma said there were scientists, people experimenting on them," Steve reminded them all. 

"How many scientists should there be to create sixteen super girls?" Tony asked, eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Thirty? Fifty?"

"Eight, more like it," Natasha calculated as she sank down onto the coffee table. She'd been traveling for hours, she was so tired but so _scared_ , and she was just running on a sandwich Coulson had gotten her before they took off. Clint couldn't be in a better condition. "They probably developed the 'serums' elsewhere, had the scientists inject the girls, report the results."

"Emma remembered needles. Having to run because she felt needles, and then using her powers to make a wall blow up. There must've been scientists in that building when blasts came from inside it. Why only remove the bodies of the scientists? That doesn't make a lot of sense," Tony argued.

"Do you still have those files from Shield about the institute?" Natasha asked Tony, who tapped the window next to Bucky. Bright blue screens appeared, and he flicked through them, only to raise his eyebrows at them. 

"What the- They deleted the files connected to Emma's file," he said, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"What? Why would they do that?" Steve asked and leaned against Tony's desk to see over his lover's shoulder. 

"Because Shield sucks," Bucky ground out, leaning against the table on the other side of Tony. "This isn't gonna get us anywhere. We assume it's somebody from the institute. Now what?"

"We try to track them down," Tony said. 

"Without the files? That could be hard," Steve pointed out. 

"That should be impossible," Darcy said. 

"Right. Impossible like how your boyfriend is like a hundred years old and how Thor is actually a god from mythology and how we know people that can turn into human balls of fire and a raccoon that can talk? That kind of impossible?" Tony asked helpfully. 

"Touché," Darcy said. "You guys are so freaky," she murmured to herself.

"Comes with the job," Natasha said distantly. "Don't you have a search history?"

Tony gave her a weird look. 

"Jarvis isn't Google, Nat," he said as he shook his head. "I'm kind of offended. Of course I saved Emma's files, I have a really high IQ. Did you know her entire name is Emma Ophelia Athena Hel by the way?"

"Hel?" Thor questioned. 

"Like the asgardian goddess, yes, I looked it up," Tony said. 

"Athena Hel," came a distant voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to stare at Clint, who was standing there with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. He looked like the epitome of compressed anger. 

"Hel is an asgardian, as the Man of Iron has said. She is also the daughter of my brother," Thor said solemnly. It was a little hard to take him seriously when he was patting Peter's back as the child pulled his hair. "Let go, little one," he said softly as he disentangled his hair from Peter's clutches. 

Tony made a face that could only be described as 'yikes'. 

"Her biological parents were mythology freaks, I guess," Darcy said in an attempt to brighten the mood. 

"Didn't your brother also give birth to an eight-legged horse?" Clint asked, his face blank. Natasha felt the need to reach out and grab Clint's hand so he'd stop shutting down, and for once, she did what she wanted to. 

She reached her hand out towards him, and Clint registered the motion, staring at it for a second before joining her on the coffee table, his calloused fingers intertwining with hers. 

"He did," Thor replied, and Darcy snorted as she choked on a laugh. "Hel is however the ruler of Hel, a place where you go when you don't die a true warrior."

"So, to sum it up," Tony said, waving his hands in the air, "Your daughter is named after an innocent girl driven into insanity and then death, the greek godess of war, and a ruler of a kind of hell. So much symbolism." He recieved a weird look from Jane. "What? I read Shakespeare."

"I like her name," Clint announced. "And I'd rather not think about death right now." 

"Right. Probably a good call," Tony agreed. "Anyway..." He swept up a file, and made a 'tada' motion with his hands. "It doesn't say shit about any of the scientists though. Just a very fuzzy rendition of what they were doing to the girls. And when I say fuzzy, boy do I mean fuzzy. An english major who was into old times-y language wrote this diffusely. Imagine having to read that."

"So we're back on square one," Bucky said blankly. "Great."

He shook his head as he walked into the kitchen in an attempt to calm himself. Maybe coffee would make him feel better. He spared the coffeemaker a glance, and decided that no, breaking a kitchen appliance wouldn't make him feel better at all. 

With a sigh, Bucky decided that maybe he'd go to the gym, work up a sweat while the others fumbled around in the dark, when he saw it. 

Emma's bag. 

It was just sitting underneath the coats by the elevator, lumpy by the way she'd probably tossed her stuff into it. She wasn't a slob, but she wasn't a neatfreak either. Emma was just a little bit of everything, he thought, as he picked the bag up. It shouldn't be sitting in plain sight right now. It would just cause everyone pain, he reasoned as he took the elevator up to Natasha and Clint's floor.

Bucky dumped her bag onto her bed, and looked around her room. It wasn't spotless, but the pile of clothes, huge enough to hide a body under, on her floor that had been there a week ago was gone, and one of the drawers in her chest of drawers was pulled out. A knife was taped to the side of the drawer, and he shook his head. She knew the tricks, this kid. The bed was messy and unmade, and it made Bucky's heart ache to think about where she might be sleeping now. 

Then, suddenly, something vibrated, snapping him out of his suddenly dark thoughts. 

Bucky tensed up, and heard it again. It was coming from Emma's bag. 

Quickly, he unzipped it, and rummaged around, until his fingers closed around Emma's phone. A picture of the scowling, arrogant twig was blinking at him, with 'Dami' flashing at the top. Bucky answered. 

"Barton?" came Damian's annoyed voice from the other side. 

"Bucky," he replied, and there was a silence. It lasted for almost four seconds, before Damian's breath puffed in the receiver. 

"Where's Barton? She hasn't replied to any of my messages and hasn't picked up her phone since she left. Is she angry?" he asked, sounding wary now. Bucky swallowed hard. 

"Emma's been kidnapped," he exhaled, and there was another silence on the other end. 

"Kidnapped?" Damian repeated slowly. 

"Yeah. We're trying to find her, but it's going slow," Bucky explained. "So if you could whip out a little something to help, that'd be swell."

There was a stony silence on Damian's end. 

"Listen up kid, for one, I ain't stupid. I do my research on people I think are trained assassins who are hanging out with my best friend, and you look suspiciously like a _vigilante_ I could name. But, I'm tryin' to be a good person nowadays, and outing people who are doing good stuff ain't on my list. What is on my list, is finding Emma, and I bet it's on your list now, too. Feel free to be helpful and not dig your heels in like a brat."

"What a lovely way to convince me," Damian said sourly. 

"You don't need convincing," Bucky smiled. "You're already looking for her. She was last seen in a white van, that was dumped in the woods. No tiretracks leading from the scene either. We're thinkin' it's someone from her past, some bad guys she couldn't seem to shake. Probably from when she was nine."

"What if she doesn't need saving?"

"Don't you think she would've been home by now if she didn't need at least a little bit of saving?" Bucky asked. "She can deal with a lot of things herself, but I don't think this is one of those things." He could practically hear the gears turning on the other side of the line. 

"I shall return with what I find. Don't think I'm doing this because you asked me to."

"It's all for Emma," Bucky agreed. "Keep me posted."

"Agreed," Damian replied, and hung up. 

\---

The movement was making Emma's breathing harder, making her lungs feel suffocated and compressed, and her ribs hurt like _satan's fucking aunt_ was sitting on them. In reality, it was all Ralph, Ralph's fucking fault. 

"Again," Ralph said, his voice a command every cell in her body wanted to disobey. She knew it would only cause her further harm than her bloodied wrists, throbbing head, and burning and constricting ribs.

Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to be Wolverine, with metal bones. Did he ever have to worry about headaches? Probably not. Emma envied him greatly. 

She waited as the man stood back up again, stumbling a little. She would've stumbled herself, but since her hands were still tied to her back, she wouldn't be able to catch herself if she actually bellyflopped onto the floor, so she widened her stance and prepared to take the man down again. 

It was that guy that had dragged Frenchy out of her cell earlier (yesterday? Even though she'd been dead tired but had no clue what time it was after Frenchy died, she hadn't slept, couldn't have). He wasn't tall by anyone's standards, but he wasn't short either. He was that kind of average guy you saw at the grocery store and then forgot about. Nothing special. 

He lunged at her, and she dodged easily, jumping up to kick him in the small of his back, making him tip over by putting her other foot down at just the right place. As soon as he was on the ground, she sat down on him, using her tied hands to pull his feet up against his back and using her considerable leverage to grab his arms with her legs and wrenching them backwards.

The man she now decided to call Joe, seeing as he was such an average joe, made a noise of pain, and she pulled just that much harder on both his arms and legs. 

"Off," came Ralph's command, and just to piss him off, Emma sat for at least another twenty seconds, before she heard a soft sigh. She was just about to rush to stand up, because that sigh meant _pain_ , when Ralph grabbed her by the hair and yanked her onto her feet. 

She didn't make a noise of pain, couldn't make a noise, because when she did, he'd won. He wanted submission, and she wasn't gonna give it to him that easy.

"You do what I say, my little star," he cooed as he dragged her head to rest against his shoulder, smiling sweetly at her. "It might take a while, but I've got time to train you back into the sweet lethal little girl that I used to know. Only better. Less... Volatile."

"You think you have time?" Emma breathed. "That's cute of you."

"Oh, but you think your good old avengers are gonna come find us? That's so childishly hopeful of you. I'm kind of amazed that you still have that in you."

"It's not childish hope. You're gonna get your ass handed to you," Emma managed to get out, louder now. 

"It's been over twenty-four hours since you were kidnapped. I'm sure they've given up by now."

"They wouldn't," she said, firmly, but a spark of doubt lit up in her stomach. What if they'd given up already? She'd been gone for a solid twenty-four hours and they hadn't found her? How was that even possible? Bucky and Nat and Clint were spies, they were supposed to gather intel and find people and things that were hidden. 

 _No_ , she told herself. _They're coming for you. Ralph is toying with you again. This is what he does. You know this._

"I bet they never even wanted you in the first place," Ralph sighed, as if having this conversation with her was just strenuous, and used the leverage he had on her head to push her to the ground carelessly. 

Emma braced for impact and rolled over onto her back as soon as her shoulder came in contact with the floor, getting back up quickly. Lying down in enemy territory was not something she was stupid enough to do. Her ribs really hurt now, a stabbing pain every time she breathed. She wondered how long she could hold her breath nowadays without fainting. When she was eight, she could almost hold her breath for ninety seconds straight, due to being friends with that circus girl who was practically part amphibian. 

"Get up. Don't be such a girl," Ralph snapped at Joe on the floor, and nudged him with his boot.

"Sexist," Emma sing-songed under her breath, and was immediately rewarded with a hand reaching out to slap her. But she was ready for it, tuned and unchained, and she dodged in time to kick Ralph's arm as hard as she could, only to be rewarded by him grabbing her leg and jerking it upwards. 

With a muffled yell, Emma toppled to the ground, and fell hard on her back. Her ears were ringing from the impact of her head on the cement floor, and her wrist suddenly exploded in pain. She made a gasping sob, and Ralph didn't even pay attention to it. 

"Again," came his sharp demand, and Emma managed to get up, only to wobble dangerously. She widened her stance again, taking deep breaths to breathe through the pain of having her wrist doing something that felt dangerously close to a crack in the bone. Joe lunged at her again, and Emma steeled herself. 

\---

After a whole day of absolutely _nothing_ , many angry calls to Shield and a buttload of coffee, all of the Avengers were aggravated, sad, and useless.

Pepper came to the tower with takeout at ten pm, and simultaneously saved all of the Avengers from the rest of the Avengers by managing to wrangle every single one of them into bed and feeling no remorse whatsoever that Natasha had tried her best puppy look and even managed to fake breaking down crying.

Nope, Pepper didn't take any of their shit, and the only person she couldn't convince that he should go to bed, was Bucky. Bucky was holding down the fort, he claimed, and Pepper just got a sad look on her face and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. 

"You don't have to take the blame for everything," she said gently, her eyes warm and not exactly pitying. Bucky couldn't really describe the way she looked at him, it was sad, yes, but it was compassionate as well as affectionate, somehow, which really baffled him. Pepper had no loyalties to him, and yet she looked like she wanted to stroke his hair as if he was a sad child. 

"I know," he replied, and she left him there on the couch after a few more seconds of her staring.

Bucky was surprised when he heard the elevator bell ding softly a few minutes later, and looked up from where he was gazing out over the city, when a pile of his covers and pillows was dumped onto the couch. 

Darcy glared at him defiantly with her hands on her hips, and Bucky was yet again reminded of why he'd taken a liking to Darcy in the first place. 

"I know you're not gonna sleep at all, but _some of us_ , being me, have grown accustomed to having another body, being you, in the bed, so you're gonna have to deal with snuggling on the couch until I fall asleep, and then some," she said, no, more like demanded. 

And there it was, that spark in her eye that told him she wasn't going to let him sneak out of this. Surprisingly, he found himself totally okay with that.

"Okay," he said, his voice suddenly rough with emotion, and her glare softened. She hopped over the couch and straightened the pillows, beckoning him over with a soft smile. 

"C'mere you foxy grandpa."

"Moodkiller," Bucky chuckled, and he was as surprised as Darcy that he had managed it. She recovered a lot quicker than he did though, and wiggled her eyebrows at him as he walked over.

"Pants off. I will probably suffocate from your body warmth alone, which means that with pants it's just a fricking sauna under here," she said, and he obediently pulled his sweats off. 

"You just want to see me in my underwear." Darcy smirked at him. 

"You know me so well," she replied as she lifted the covers. He settled himself in underneath Darcy, and draped the covers over them, letting her shift around until she found a comfortable position, her nose tucked just underneath his ear and her one knee pulled up as she stuck one of her cold hands into his armpit. They were silent for a while, until Bucky squeezed her hip where his real hand was resting. 

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?" Darcy asked, the last word turning into a yawn.

"For being so good to me." 

"I'm just using you for a space heater," she replied, kissing his neck softly. 

"I mean with the whole... Emma situation," he whispered into her hair, and Darcy nuzzled his neck. 

"Your best friend is kidnapped and you're totally distressed even if you're not showing it. Cuddles aren't gonna solve anything, but it's bound to make you feel a little better."

"It does."

"Cool. Hush now child, mama needs her beauty sleep," Darcy said, reaching up to squish his cheeks. He grabbed her hand with his metal one, and pulled it to his lips, kissing it. 

They were cuddled close, unlike the two agents a few floors above them. Natasha was lying on her back, staring up at Clint's white ceiling, along with Clint. Both stock still. Barely moving. 

"We need to find her," Natasha said suddenly, her hands turning into fists under the covers. 

"I know," Clint said into the dimly lit room. 

"We should be out there, looking for her."

"Where?"

"Anywhere!" Natasha growled, sitting up in bed. 

"Tasha..." 

"No! We need to do something! I can't just sit here!" she exclaimed, and Clint sat up in bed with her. 

"We can't do shit, and it's pissing me off too," Clint assured her, a dark look in his eyes as he grabbed her clenched hand. One by one, he uncurled her fingers, and wrapped his hand up in hers. "But we're useless to Emma without sleep."

"We can go without sleep," Natasha argued, like she had argued with Pepper earlier, but Clint shook his head at her, his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

"You need to sleep or you're going to stab someone tomorrow. I like these people. So do you. We don't really want anyone to get stabbed." She hated when Clint was being reasonable.

"I can't sleep," Natasha said, pushing him back down onto the bed. 

"Probably because the lights are on?" Clint suggested helpfully as she suddenly slid over to straddle him. Clint sucked in his breath through his teeth as his hands reached out to steady her. Before he could say anything, she bent down and kissed him, hard and demanding and hot, and a startled noise escaped his lips.

When she came up for air, Clint made a noise. 

"Tasha, don't do this to yourself," he whispered. She froze with her hands on his strong stomach, and looked up to meet his eyes. His damn blue eyes, so soft and gentle, like he knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

She was distracting herself. Clint was good at distracting her. Natasha knew that for a fact, and so did Clint, but with the way he was looking at her, he knew. He knew that she was weak, and angry and sad, and Clint was her distraction.

"Please, Clint," Natasha whispered, and her voice cracked as she said it, making her grimace at herself, wiping the corners of her eyes as they suddenly overflowed. "Please." Clint bit his lip as his hand came up to stroke her cheek, his warm, calloused hand, and he brought her mouth to his in a soft kiss, making Natasha's eyes burn even more.

 _Please distract me_ , she wanted to plead as he kissed her tears away. The ache in her heart seemed to become worse as well as more manageable when his fingers cradled her cheeks, so soft, so gentle. 

"Tasha," he whispered, like this was one of those moments when he loved her so much his chest felt like it was bursting with it, and he did, he really did. Clint loved the woman sitting on top of him, as much as he possibly could. Natasha was the love of his life and there was no doubt about it, but right now seeing her cry those very real, silent tears was tearing him apart.

Natasha kissed him again, grabbing hold of his wrists to keep his hands in place, and he felt more than heard her take a shaky breath. 

"I miss her too," he said as he guided Natasha's head onto his shoulder instead, leaning on her head as his own eyes burned with unushed tears. "We'll find her. Nothing in this world can keep us from her."

Natasha leaned up again, just enough so that Clint could see the determined flash in her eyes, and her shifting jaw. 

"Nothing," she whispered. 

\---


	61. Helpful Brats And Bloody Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More build-up and torture because I like torturing my characters to squeeze out their emotions like I'm squeezing a sponge!  
> This chapter came to me quickly, but the actual rescue might take a few more days. Stay tuned (also stay awesome you kind gentle soft people, your support is getting me through the writersblock)  
> Love you all, enjoy! <3

 

Someone slammed the heavy steel door open, and Emma struggled to open her eyes. She was bloody, sweat dried into her skin, and her breaths still felt a little wheeze-y. But at least the eye that had swollen shut yesterday was back to a semblance of normal. The rest of her body, covered in bruises and those sick-ass bruises the size of a hockey puck, throbbed painfully.

They were turning the scramblers off when she slept. Emma had to admire their smarts, if only for just a second, before the hatred came back with such a vengeance that she could taste it. Or maybe it was just the taste of her own blood. Probably that. 

Three figures towered over her, but Emma couldn't make her body move. Her head was suddenly spinning again. There came the scrambler. It took her so much effort to open and focus her eyes, that it didn't make her feel scared to see Ralph standing there, with Joe and another guy she didn't know the name of. How many back-up Frenchy's did he have?

She was just so _tired_. So tired. She's forgetting why she should fight this. For who, exactly, is she fighting for? It's not like her life would be such a loss.

No. She's protecting the people she would have to kill for him. This is for them. This is for the people she needs to save from herself. _Stand up for yourself, Emma_. 

They should've found her by now though, shouldn't they have?

It'd been more than two days. That she knows. Emma had counted the hours as they ticked by. She knew with complete certainty that at least two days had gone. 

But it had to be more. 

"My little star," she heard Ralph say, and she didn't even feel the need to flinch at it anymore.

It's his petname for her, his way of making her feel inferior. It's the way men have always tried to control her. _Sweetie. Honey. Darling. Sugar._ Emma was always so tired of their shit, until she'd heard 'sweetie' being said affectionately. Like they loved her. Like her family loved her.

"Look at me."

Why was she fighting him again? Emma couldn't remember. She looked up. He smiled at her, and it made disgust roll around in her stomach and everything hurt, it hurt so much. 

"Good little star. You know your place." She would've stomped on his foot if she could move her feet. "Get up." Obeying people. Never been her thing. This isn't her, this isn't her. "Now, Emma."

On shaky, bleeding legs, Emma stood up, and it was practically impossible to see his face clearly anymore from the way her vision was blurring, which was a relief. 

"Stop crying." His voice turned cold , hard, sharp. It was everything it should be, not that lying liquidy smooth he kept trying to charm her with. She knows this. Emma knows this. 

Emma couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks, but she knows to be silent, not sobbing even as the urge overwhelmed her. 

"Show me your fists," Ralph demanded, and she did, holding her fists up for his inspection. "Punch that man." Ralph pointed to a man in the corner, and she shouldn't do it. She knows this. _We don't punch people._

"No," Emma said, and it felt good. Like she'd been stuffed into a warm shower for the first time since he broke her again.

"No?" Ralph asked. 

"No."

"Alright," Ralph replied, and Emma felt her eyes widen. He's going to do something bad, she thought. 

Ralph flicked a knife out of seemingly nowhere, and stabbed the not-Joe-not-Frenchy-man in the eye. Emma couldn't flinch, even as the man screamed, she knew that. She made an aborted noise in the back of her throat, and it made her muscles twitch as she watched him collapse on the floor. She wants to help the guy, she realizes, and doesn't that just prove that Clint and Natasha are great role models. 

Clint and Natasha...

The thought made her need to sob even stronger, but she stopped it, because Ralph doesn't deserve the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Emma is stronger than this. She _is_. 

"See what happens when you don't listen to me, my little star?" he said, and his voice fell back to the creamy sweet voice that still haunts her nightmares. "You do what I say, or you watch worse things happen. Yes?"

"Yes," she said, her voice trembling. 

"Good girl," he said, and patted her cheek. "Now twist it."

"Twist what?" Emma asked, her voice trembling. Ralph tapped her head, hard too, and she didn't flinch, couldn't flinch. 

"Think a little. What do you think I want you to twist?"

Emma glanced at the man on the floor, clutching his eye, the knife still in it, and whimpering. She closed her eyes and did as she was told.

\---

Pepper came around again at six am, only to find all of the avengers in the common room area again, sitting quietly and discussing things with Bruce on video call.

"Seriously guys? I was gone for eight hours! How long have you been up?" Pepper groaned as she walked into the room, and startled the whole heap, who turned around in their seats. They all hushed her, and Tony pointed towards the couch, where Darcy was tucked into her covers, sound asleep. 

Pepper took a calming breath, as she was stared at by all the Avengers, looking at her like she was their pre-school teacher and they'd all woken up from nap time much too early. 

Bucky motioned for her shoes, and Pepper looked down at her slim six inch heels. She looked up, and received demanding eyebrows from the entire group, save Steve, who was looking too serious to judge her footwear for it's noisyness. 

Pepper Potts: CEO of Stark Industries, Tony Stark's best friend, and the occasional Avengers babysitter, as well as possible Avenger-murderer, if Thor kept staring at her shoes as sceptically as he did. 

She shook her head with a huff, and threw her shoes on the love seat, padding over to them. 

"How long?" she whispered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

"Five hours," Bucky said quietly, and well, she was happily surprised that he'd at least gotten _some_ sleep.

"I got up two hours ago," Tony confessed, at least a little guiltily, and yes, that was what Pepper was trying to get at. She raised an eyebrow at Thor. 

"For a mere hour," he said softly, and Pepper was kind of surprised that he could be that quiet, seeing as his normal volume was way above indoors level.

"Five and a half hours," Natasha said, giving Pepper a fierce glare, like Natasha was actually four and she was defying her parent. Clint made a motion with his hands, and Pepper presumed that his hearing aids were out. "Clint too."

"Right," Pepper sighed, giving Bruce a glance up on the holo-screen. "Hi Bruce. How's Australia?"

"This part of it? Warm," he replied, a small, quick smile curling his lips. 

"Well, at least you're not dealing with a bunch of cranky toddlers," she huffed. 

"We're the only one dealing with toddlers here," Tony shot in, waving a hand in between himself and Steve, who made a noise of agreement. Pepper shook her head in disbelief.

"I leave you alone for too long and you all go crazy," she said, pulling up a command center for the kitchen and turning the coffee machine on. 

"Stir crazy," Bucky corrected her, signing as he spoke.

"We need more intel," Steve said, and Bucky's hands kept moving, Clint's eyes rapidly taking it all in. "We're fumbling around in the dark. Nothing to go on." 

Bucky nodded, but Natasha noticed a new spark in his eyes, and by the way Clint's fingers tapped on her thigh, he noticed it too. 

"Anything you'd like to share with the class?" Clint asked with a quirked eyebrow at Bucky, who signed a 'no'. "You sure?"

"Very," Bucky replied. 

"I totally appreciate that you're trying to be quiet and all," came Darcy's groan from the couch. "But I would much rather you guys, like, not. Could someone close the drapes?"

"How long have you been awake?" Steve asked, baffled and mildly guilty. Oh now he was guilty, Pepper tsked. 

"Half an hour maybe? You all sound really weird when you're whispering, by the way."

"Thanks?" Bruce said questionably as two arms appeared from the nest of blankets. 

"I seem to have misplaced that other body that's supposed to be in here," she mumbled as she patted the spot behind her, as if looking for Bucky. His lips quirked into a small smile, unguarded and sweet, and it warmed Steve's heart to see Bucky looking that happy.

"We've got shit to do," Bucky said.

"Has anybody eaten?" Pepper asked, giving them all pointed glares. When nobody answered, she scoffed. "I'll have Happy pick up some Krispy Kreme."

"Oh my god, yes, I love you," Darcy groaned from her nest of blankets. Bucky swallowed as she sat up, yawning as she scratched her neck, and her hair was sleep tousled again, and he just couldn't stop staring.

He saw Clint shake his head with exasperation and turned to squint at him. 

" **What?** " he signed at him, and Clint's jaw clenched. 

" **Stop having bug eyes over your girlfriend, we've got better things to do** ," he signed quickly, and Natasha placed a placating hand on his arm.

"What're they saying?" Tony asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

"Nothing," Bucky bit out, and got up. "I'm going to the kitchen. I need coffee."

"Ooh, Steve, go with him, I need my coffee," Tony proclaimed, giving Steve's butt an appreciative pat as he stood up. He received narrowed eyes from Steve for that, and Tony beamed at him. "Thanks hot stuff."

"Yeah yeah," Steve huffed out with a laugh and trailed after Bucky into the kitchen. 

Bucky actually wasn't here for the coffee. He just wanted to get away from Clint's moving hands. Of course, he could've ignored the waving motions to get his attention, but that would've earned him a 'hey shitface', and he got it when Clint decided that he didn't feel like talking out loud. It was something he could relate to. Didn't feel like forcing Clint into talking at all. 

But was being together with Darcy a bad thing? Was it muddling his psyche even more than before? Maybe he should save her from him while he still could. 

"So, how's it with Darcy?" Steve asked, as if he'd read his mind, making Bucky look up from where his eyes had stuck to the kitchen floor. The super soldier was wearing one of his tight t-shirts and his hair was a little mussed, and the smile on his face was friendly. 

"Good. She's not lookin' to bolt yet, anyway." Steve snorted at that.

"I don't think she'd bolt on you, Buck," he said, pulling a blue cup out of a cupboard and putting it on the kitchen island. 

"Well, y'know, seeing as I'm, what's that thing Stark keeps saying, 'a violent, ex-Hydra icicle', I wouldn't blame her if she did." Steve's friendly look turned concerned.

He missed Emma. She would've looked pissed off instead. And then proceeded to tick off all the reasons why she thought he was great. Steve wasn't comfortable enough with him for that, probably. He was the kind of friend that would die for you, but Bucky would probably forever be fragile to him, someone to be careful with, gentle with. 

Maybe Bucky should start being with Steve more. His best friend should probably be his old best friend, rather than a tiny little girl. Steve was his age. Steve should be safe to be friends with. Bucky may be just a ghost of his old self, but that ghost still felt a pull to Steve.

He should really start being with Steve more. 

"Tony's a little..." Steve said slowly, biting his lip in thought. "Sometimes he's mean, even though he doesn't mean to be."

"It's the truth. The truth is mean," Bucky shrugged. The corners of Steve's lips turned downwards into a frown. 

"I'm sad to say you're right."

Bucky shrugged as he stood there, bracing himself. This could be another day of nothing, another day of no signs or leads, and it was going to drive him crazy. He wondered distantly if Natasha would spar with him later. She and Clint seemed to be the only ones willing to go full out on him. Never Steve. The sparring he did with Steve were playfights. Those were surprisingly okay too.

"Captain Rogers, there is a woman in the lobby with a package," came Jarvis voice, and Steve looked up at the ceiling. 

"Bring her up then," he suggested. "Not a reporter in disguise?"

"She doesn't live up to any of the criteria, no."

"We'll see what she wants then," he shrugged and handed Bucky a cup of coffee as well. He stared at the swirling dark liquid. Tony imported his own beans and they made for some super expensive and very tasty coffee. Maybe he should go back to drinking the regular stuff in case someone snatched the rug out from under him. In case he'd have to live in less style. Just in case.

"A package for a Bucky Barnes?" came a fair voice from behind him, and Bucky turned, suspicion making his entire frame tense. There was a girl standing there, blonde hair, blue eyes, with a toned body hid underneath a uniform for a delivery company. It immediately set Bucky on edge, until he noticed the way she stood. 

The air of grace around her wasn't that of a dancer. It was one of a fighter. This girl wasn't a regular delivery girl. 

"That'd be him," Steve said. Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, and she tipped her nose up with confidence as she handed over something techy, and definitely not something that Bucky would be able to handle usually, let alone now. 

He pushed it over to Steve, and grabbed the package from her hands. They stared at each other, eyes locked in a suspicious stare. He recognized the hair, her stance. Her cape might as well be billowing behind her in the wind. This was yet another vigilante.

Lucky for her, Bucky was in no state of mind to be calling people out on their shit. Instead, he broke their stare and placed the box on the nearest horizontal surface, being the kitchen island. 

"Jarvis, scan it," Bucky demanded, and a blue light shone from the ceiling, swiping over the box in three quick brushes.

"Nothing suspicious is in the box, Sergeant."

"What's in it then?"

"Papers, it seems." 

Bucky squinted at the box for a few more moments, until he noticed the elevator doors closing. 

"Captain America fan?" he asked as Steve joined him in his staring. 

"Yeah. There seems to be a lot of them."

"Do tell." Good thinking of her to shoot suspicion off herself for staring at him so much. New York was crawling with Captain America fans. To Steve, she was just an excited fan. Bucky knew better.

"Are you going to open it?" Steve asked with a quirked eyebrow. Bucky tapped his metal fingers against the cardboard box. And then he swiped one of his metal fingers against the tape, and opened the flaps, to stare at... Papers. Documents. A couple of pictures. 

One of them was of a small redheaded girl with large blue-green-grey eyes standing against a grey wall, cheeks hollowed out and legs skinny and knees scraped. Bucky quickly stuffed that one back into the box. 

He grabbed a couple of papers, skimmed them, and drew a sharp breath.

"What?" Steve asked nervously. 

"This one has a list of names. Eighteen of them. All girl names. This one looks like a punch clock record. Looks like they're papers from the institute," Bucky said, feeling a little baffled. He handed the papers in his hands over to Steve, and noticed a green post-it stuck to the back of a picture of six dead girls buried halfway underneath red bricks. 

_Find her._

Well well. Who knew. The little twig could be helpful when he wanted to. He took the post-it and crumpled it up, stuffed it in his pocket. The kid might as well have signed his damn name.

"This might actually help us find her," Steve said breathlessly, eyes bright with hope as he rifled through the box eagerly. "Any idea who sent it?"

"Not a clue," Bucky replied casually.

\---

Emma hears them first. Quiet whispers. They're so quiet that if she didn't strain, she wouldn't have heard them at all. Her cell had no windows, just bleached concrete walls and a bleached ceiling and blood on the floor. No bed. No mattress. She was surprisingly okay with that. But the voices... They freaked her out a little.

"Oh cool, I'm going crazy. That was such a hoot last time," she muttered to herself as she struggled to her feet. Emma wanted to find out where it was coming from. It was probably just in her head, but she wanted to _know_.

By leaning on the wall, she managed to slide her way over to the locked iron door that kept her in it's confines. She knew there weren't any guards, Ralph trusted his scramblers too much for that. He didn't think she could do anything, weak as a kitten as she was. 

He was wrong. 

So, Tony had only let her take one of her knives to the sleepover, and Ralph and his guys had taken that. They'd also taken her hoodie, and she was probably more upset about losing that than anything. It was one of her favorite items of clothing, and now it was probably burnt to ashes. Ralph wouldn't let her keep something that precious to her. 

But he hadn't made her walk through a metal detector. 

She knew where Ralph liked to hurt her, and there was something about him and never cutting her lower arms. Above her wrists and below her elbows were places where he never hurt.

Call Emma paranoid, but she'd clung to that piece of information like a lifeline when she was fresh out of his clutches. He didn't hurt her lower arms. That was a damn fact, and she'd used it to her advantage.

Her fingers skimmed the skin of her lower right arm, feeling the slight rise of skin. This was gonna hurt. 

"Fuck," she breathed. She started scratching the skin, hard and ferociously, until it was flushing red and she could feel the piece of metal move as she scratched over it. Emma scratched until it bled and made a small whimper of pain as she pulled the piece of wire free from her flesh. 

She swallowed the urge to puke and moved for the lock, hoping and praying to a god that had ignored her so many times before, and began picking. Emma knew how to pick locks, another handy-dandy skill Charlie had taught her back when they were still doing their breaking and entering act, and even though she was out of practice, the door gave. 

There was a loud click as the door opened, and Emma froze instinctively. The voices were suddenly quiet, everything was holding its breath as she waited. When no heavy boots came running, she pushed the door open just a little more, and slid out from her cell. 

Even in pain and with a leg that pretty done for it, Emma managed to sneak silently towards the door right across the hall from her. The whispers started up again, and now she could make out words. 

It sounded like a lullaby.

It made her heart beat a little faster as she dragged herself over to the door. This door was practically the polar opposite of hers, it was made of dark wood and had a small glass window, and looked out of place as hell, contrasting starkly with the white walls and the sterile surroundings. What was a door doing here anyway?

Her hand was half an inch away from the window when she saw all the blood on it. Whoever was on the other side, Emma didn't want to scare them off by slapping her bloody hand to the window. Felt like a too dramatic move when she was actually trying to _not_ scare them. She pulled her hand back, and instead leaned forward to peer through the glass. 

Emma nearly stumbled backwards with shock. 

Behind the glass, six girls were sitting on the floor, looking various degrees of banged up, one with a bandage wrapped around her head, another one with a bloody arm, someone's leg was completely wrapped up in bandages. They were sitting in a circle, crowding another girl. 

The girl in the middle was being cradled by the girl with the bloody arm, the carpet underneath their feet soaked with blood. All of the girls were singing softly, a lullaby to honor the corpse-white girl in the middle. 

Actual corpse. Not just corpse-white. She was dead. The girl with the bloody arm was cradling her as tight as she could without jostling the body, but there was no doubt that the girl in the middle of the circle was dead. 

Emma found herself hyperventilating. He was doing it again. Ralph was going to create another army of little girls. 

"Gorgeous, aren't they?" came Ralph's voice from behind her, a sweet whisper, and Emma closed her eyes as her knees buckled. This couldn't be happening. 

"You sick bastard," Emma whispered, and Ralph's hand rested on her shoulder as he pulled her tight to him in a sort of hug that made Emma want to claw his eyes out. It made her want to scrub the skin of her shoulders raw where he was touching to get rid of his presence from her skin. 

"I grabbed these ones from their foster homes this time. They kind of look a little like the old team, don't they? Look at her, she looks like Wind, don't you think? And that one. Same hair as Becky. You remember who they are, don't you, my little star?" Ralph said. Emma felt the tears burn in her throat. 

"Fuck you," she spat, and Ralph grabbed her hair, yanking her head back so that he could grin at her. 

"How did you get out of your cell, my little star? I'm sure I didn't allow you to walk around freely. Am I going to have to teach you some manners?" Emma involuntarily twitched, and his grin turned into a shark grin. "No. I thought so."

"You'll never get out of this alive," she snapped at him, and he bit his lip in thought. 

"Have you considered that you might not either?" he asked her, shaking her head for her. "No, you haven't. You see, I've taken a lot of time to find you, and it's cost me a few men, but you are not irreplaceable. I can flay you anytime and feel only a mild sadness that I lost such a perfect specimen. However, this isn't all about you. Give that some thought."

Ralph tugged on her hair, and made her topple onto her back, but before she could hit the ground, one of her hands flew to the back of her head on reflex now, and a scream of agony left her throat as her wounded hand came in contact with the hard floor, with her head following close behind. 

He grabbed her other hand and dragged her down the hall, and pushed her into her cell with his boot. 

"Don't let me catch you running around again, my little star," Ralph said sweetly. "You know what I'm like when you're naughty."

The door shut with a loud bang, and Emma flinched as she touched the wound on the side of her head, cradling her hurt hand to her chest. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it hurt and she would probably have to get stitches. If she ever got out of here. 

She curled up on the blood-stained floor and waited for when Ralph felt like pulling her out of her cell again to play.

\---

"Meet Ralph Coble," Tony said, swiping up a picture on one of his holo screens. Natasha looked up and inhaled sharply. 

"I've seen him before," she said. 

"What?" Bucky gaped. "Where?"

"At the mall. I was out with Emma and you at the mall and I saw him," she said, standing up abruptly from the couch. Bucky helpfully signed what she just said to Clint, whose eyes widened. 

"Holy fuck, that's where he saw her," he exclaimed, the first words he'd uttered in all day. 

"So, Emma blows the place that he built from the ground up, he gets all of the scientists out, saves his own butt by getting himself a new lung from said scientists, and then kills them all," Steve said slowly. "But for what reason? Why kill them all?"

"They could tattle. They were liabilities," Bucky said as he thumbed the picture in his hands. It was that picture of the younger Emma, her eyes so wide and innocent and her features soft. So small. So scared. "Or maybe he's just a sick fuck. Does it matter?"

"Why would he want Emma again? Revenge?" Tony suggested. 

"A reboot." All eyes turned to Bucky where he sat in the couch. He looked up from the picture. "He's going to turn her back into the weapon he tried to create when she was younger."

"Holy fuck," Darcy said, shaking her head as she sipped her coffee. "That's so sick."

"It's reasonable," Natasha said distantly. "Does he own any property? Or did any of the scientists own any property?"

Tony pressed some buttons and names and pictures flashed over the screen. 

"One of them, Ned Goodman, owned a couple of acres randomly strewn around Syracuse," he replied. 

"How many?" Natasha demanded. 

"Three."

"Any digging on those acres in the past years?" she asked. 

"You think he's underground?" Steve asked. 

"I don't think he'd make the mistake of being out in the open again. He's intelligent enough to be able to kidnap sixteen girls without anybody noticing. He's good," Natasha said firmly. 

"Well, I think we've hit the jackpot," Tony said from his holo screen. Everybody looked over at him. "We've got an address. Everybody suit up."

"We found her?" Clint asked. Tony turned around and nodded. 

"I think we got her," he said breathlessly. 

"Alright team, we leave in five, get into your suits, go, go, go!" Steve said, already halfway to the elevator when Clint flipped over the couch gracefully and ran past him, Natasha a mere footfall behind. 

Bucky felt his heart beat faster with excitement, but he still remembered what had lead them to this. The box the brat sent over. He owed the kid some information. Patting his pockets, he pulled Emma's phone out and opened it, and called Damian as he stepped into the elevator that came down from dropping Clint and Natasha off.

"Barton?" came Damian's breathless voice, and Bucky had to sigh. 

"Still Bucky."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Thanks for the box though. Helpful. Maybe don't send another one of your billion siblings to drop it off," he suggested. 

"Brown isn't a sibling. Merely... I suppose she's an acceptable family member."

"Be careful, a guy might think you're actually trying to be nice," Bucky said with an eyeroll as he got off on his own floor, immediately heading for his weapons locker. Darcy said it was mildly concerning that he had it in his bedroom, but Darcy wasn't used to being on the run. 

"This conversation is merely between the two of us, and us only. Brown only called you 'smoking hot'." He could hear the air-quotes, and only because Emma had taught him to. Bucky was ready to smash some skulls to get to her.

"Been told that before." 

"Was there a reason you called?" Damian asked, obviously rolling his eyes.

"Yes. We think we know where she is," Bucky said as he grabbed his guns, shoving them into the holsters on his hips. He buckled some knives onto himself. 

"I want to come with you," Damian said, and Bucky shook his head in protest, even though Damian couldn't see him. He opened the compartment in his arm and stuffed a couple of small explosives into it. 

"Too risky, kid."

"What do you mean, _too risky_? If you know-"

"People on this team do their research, alright, this has nothing to do with how good you fight. Don't you think Hawkeye and Black Widow can pick you out of any damn line-up, no matter how many dominoes you put on, based on the way you fight? If you show up, colors flashing, and they see you fight, don't you think they're gonna fuck you right up? They're the good guys, but that doesn't mean they won't keep you from ever coming into contact with their kid again. They'll flip shit. You're not coming along. And neither are your brothers. Or contacts. This ain't your fight."

"If you think I'll sit idly by-"

"That's _exactly_ what you're gonna do."

"You can't stop me," Damian snarled.

"I guess not. But let's think for a sec, yeah? What happens if these people find out who you really are? Don't you think that someone will see you there and say 'oh who's that? That looks like Dick. And that Jason. And-"

"Shut up," Damian snapped.

"You know I'm right." The silence was reluctant on the other end. "Yeah. If you know what's good for yourself, stay home. I'll call you when we get her out."

"Swear on your life."

"I swear on my life," Bucky solemnly said, and Damian made his annoying click noise before hanging up. Bucky threw her phone onto his bed and Jarvis opened one of his windows.

Natasha and Clint were underneath his window on one of those things that floated and that looked vaguely like a jetski.

"Come on залупа!" Clint called, a purely bloodthirsty smile on his face to match Natasha's. Oh, they were out for blood now. "Get your ass on the scooter and we'll get going!"

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i COULDN'T STOP MYSELF FROM ADDING ONE MORE DAMN SUPERHERO COULD I but Steph is gr8 okay I couldn't stop myself at all)


	62. Untimely Rescue Missions And Small Angry Birds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, you guys are so dedicated, it makes me very happy. I've been getting a lot comments recently, so I totally finished this chapter because of all of you sweeties. Thank you for being such cool cats and reading my stuff!  
> (ALSO lamia-mhyt-medea on tumblr drew this freaking AWESOME fan art of Emma that made me want to cry a little, and if I knew how to add a link I would, but I don't and I just have to tip you all to go check it out, ALSO ALSO I'm on tumblr too, in case you didn't know, as hots-of-love kk cool)  
> Enjoy! <3

 

"You know how to do this, but we'll brush your skills up just a little," Ralph said, and Emma swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the man tied to a chair, slumped over and sagging in it. He was bound with wire to the chair that was welded to the floor, his suit bloody and wrinkled. This was probably where she had been tortured a day or five ago. What time was it even? How long of the new year had she spent in Ralph's clutches? "Nails. Get them for me."

Her leg hurt like a hippo had decided to take a nap on it, her head was pounding from all the scrambling, and the cuts all over her body were still burning. He kept making her rip the wounds back open, as if keeping her incapacitated with a scrambler and years of trauma wasn't enough for him. Joe had dragged her here with a hand around her neck like his arm was a leash and his hand a collar. She was going to get bruises from that, definitely. 

"Now, Emma," came Ralph's impatient voice. Emma moved towards the man in the chair. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered quietly and his eyes snapped open, dazed with pain as she grabbed the pliers from the table. She worked efficiently and quickly, and when she had six of his nails in her hand, Ralph sighed. 

"Come to me, darling," he said, and she looked up at him, glancing at the man in the chair. He'd been screaming himself hoarse, but she still had four nails to go. Why was Ralph stopping her? Fear flared up in her chest. Oh no. "Come on," he coaxed. 

Slowly, Emma walked over and held the nails out to him, like an offering to a god, a god of torture and pain and hurt. She still held her hand out towards him, letting him look at her prey. _Look how good I've been._

"Yes, I see. Good, my little star. You're making progress." What else was she supposed to do? Fighting was futile, impassiveness would only cause more pain, what else was she _supposed_ to do but jump back into the assassin-in-training boots? She had no _choice._

If Emma had had a choice, Ralph would be dead and buried in a shallow grave while she sat at home in her couch with her family surrounding her. Like how they'd been at Christmas. Comfortable. Safe. She missed her friends and her bed and Lucky, but she couldn't _do anything about it._

"Now I want you to cut one of his toes off."

"Please, no, oh god, please don't!" the man yelled, and Ralph laughed from his corner of the dimly lit room.

"I want you to bring me his balls in a box later, as well as his toe, and a bodypart of your choosing. I won't say no to an eyeball. Or a tongue."

"Oh god," the guy whimpered, and Emma pitied him. How had he even gotten into business with Ralph? Was he just another stray that Ralph had coerced into helping him and then betrayed?

Ah. She should probably stop projecting.

"I'll be leaving now, my little star. I'll leave three guards outside for you when you're done. Take your time. Make him suffer," Ralph tossed out on his way to the door, and Emma stopped herself from shuddering at his casual tone. 

"No, please, pretty please no, I have kids," the man sobbed, and Emma had to make herself shut down for this. _Shut down, you can't do this without shutting down, come on, shut **down.**_

She willed her tears away as she heard the heavy clang of the door closing, the lock sliding shut. The man whimpered, and she dropped the pliers to the floor loudly, sinking down onto her butt to stretch her leg out with a hiss. There was a pause in the sniffling as the room turned silent. 

"What... What are you doing?" Tentative, hopeful. 

"Don't look a gifthorse in the mouth," Emma cited as she took in the sight of her poor leg. Ralph had been brutal. Disobeying meant pain. She knew this. "I don't think you have kids. You're just thinking of yourself. You'd probably be more shocked and disgusted that a kid was gonna cut your balls off if you'd had kids."

The man said nothing, breathing harshly from containing so much pain and fear. 

"So no on the kids. A wife?" He didn't move, just staring at her as she tenderly touched her shin. Emma didn't hiss, but she sucked in her breath through her nose. "Oh you have a wife? That's nice. I bet you call her 'the old ball and chain'. Which is really weird by the way, because why would you marry her if you didn't love her enough to want to spend the rest of your life with her? Stupid. Much like getting into this situation was."

"Get? There was no getting, young lady, I was kidnapped!" he exclaimed, and she raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Young lady? Really? That's where you wanna go right now?" She got to her feet, and grabbed one of the knives off the table where she'd gotten the pliers, and toyed with it a little. 

"Put that down, sweetie, you don't want to do this, I can feel it," he said, his voice turning a little desperate. 

"Of course I don't, _sweetie_ ," Emma said with a tsk as she looked him up and down. What body part would hurt the least to get rid off? Why would Ralph want his balls anyway? What had this guy done? "Toes are icky. I could just take a finger. Less gross." 

The man started chanting 'no' as she grabbed the pliers, closing her eyes. This was going to hurt her as much as it hurt him. Alright, he'd probably be in a lot more physical pain, but mentally, Emma was in over her head, drowning in memories stained with blood. 

Suddenly the entire compound shook with an explosion. The knife fell from her hand as she staggered with the shocks. 

"Oh my god," Emma breathed as her heart started beating out of her chest. 

"What the hell was that?!" the man screamed. Emma's eyes lit up as she turned to grin brightly at him. 

"Family," she said. From the horrified look on his face, she had blood on her teeth. Not surprising. She couldn't have distinguished the copper from the taste of her own mouth anyways. It didn't matter anymore. 

They were coming for her. 

Her head felt suddenly dizzy with relief, and she took a few deep breaths before she heard the guards outside yell into their communicators. This was her chance. This was her one chance, and she wasn't going to blow it. 

The door burst open, but she was ready for them, knife at the ready and in the air. The sharp, shiny blade quickly became soiled with blood as Emma swung herself up on one of the guards shoulders, slitting his throat with an efficiency and determination she hadn't had in forever. Before the other one could pull his gun on her, she had grabbed his arm and wrenched it towards the guy in the chair. The bullet whizzed by his head as he screamed yet again, and she broke the guard's arm in one smooth motion before she decided to break the other arm as well, and she cracked two of his ribs for good measure. 

And then the headache hit her with full power again, with enough force to make her crumple to the ground as another explosion shook the concrete. 

 _STUPID STUPID STUPID_. Three guards, not just two! 

The third guard stood there with a huge smirk on his face, because _everybody_ in this place enjoyed seeing her in pain, obviously, and with a scrambler in hand. 

Fucking scramblers. 

She was ready to just murder whoever invented them in the first place. Probably Ralph. Shithead. 

But this was her one chance. One chance only. 

She twisted in agony as the fucker amped the effects up, and she rolled over to the dead guard, giving the third guard a good little show, she had been in the circus after all, by thrashing around on the floor until her hand found one of the guns. With a tuck and roll that she had been taught ages ago, Emma rolled onto her stomach, and took the shot. 

The man dropped like a sack of potatoes and Emma immediately crawled over the guard to the scrambler, shooting that too before dropping the gun. She avoided the man's gory mess of an eye as she regained her breath. The pressure in her head immediately eased, and she swept her hair out of her face, ready to give her last break out an encore with her powers, when...

Nothing came. 

Emma still felt as weak and broken and in pain as before. Ralph must have more of the scramblers around here. She dropped the gun and grabbed a bigger knife as well as a smaller one, and began stumbling through the compound towards the explosions. 

\---

The field they were standing right in front of had a whole army of signs with various versions of 'keep out' scrawled over them, and obviously, Bucky had given no shits, and stepped directly onto the field.

Immediately, machine guns sprang out of the ground, and everyone went into battle mode, attacking all the guns as Iron Man circled above. 

"There!" he said into the comms, and Clint followed the direction of his hand to a small spot of grass surrounded by shrubbery. He called for Steve, who threw his shield at one of the machine guns and caught it on the rebound, before dashing over to him. 

He watched the enraged Natasha grab a machine gun and snatch it off it's axis as if it was made of paper and not metal as Steve shielded them from the fire. Clint's hands searched the grass until his fingers found a handle, and he grunted as he pulled it open. 

Steve fell to his knees to shield Clint from the incoming gunfire, as six guys peppered them. Clint was seeing red, this was where they were holding her, in a shitty, gritty underground facility. He was going to violently maim every person he came across in here. Screw letting Shield have at them, this was family business. 

A smoke arrow was shot into the crowd, and Clint felt Natasha come up behind him, so he braced himself as she used his shoulder as a launch pad to flip gracefully and with a whole lot of force into the smoke. He jumped after her, and rolled as he touched ground, hearing an arm snap and a scream in the fog. 

"Widow," he called. 

"Four," she called back, and he slammed his bow into the head of an incoming guy, and found himself disappointed that the guy dropped immediately. Clint punched him in the dick once, just for good measure, and backed up until he heard Natasha pull her guns. The fog began to clear, and now he could see Natasha's work. 

She'd taken five out of six out, and aggressively so, too. 

"Clear," Clint said into his comm, and Bucky and Thor dropped down silently, followed by Cap being lowered into the concrete building by Iron Man. 

"Iron Man, pinpoint this place so that we can find our way out later," Cap said, squinting into the dimly lit corridor. There seemed to be a fork in the road fifty feet forward. "Alright Avengers, we're splitting into search teams. Main objective is obviously finding Emma, but if we find... Any other victims, be sure to bring them too. I'll go with Bucky, Iron Man and Thor are a team, and Widow and Hawkeye are obviously a team."

"Alright god of thunder, it's you and I against the darkness," Iron Man said in his metallic voice as they made their way over to the fork quickly, only to find out that it was more of a trident. 

"We'll go left," Black Widow said and nodded towards the left turn. 

"We go right," Bucky said and started running that way without looking if Steve was following.

"I guess we'll go in the middle then. Great," Tony called after them, but suddenly there was gunfire coming from one of the hallways, and he was distracted. Bucky kept running through the seemingly doorless corridor, until he saw a metal door to his left. 

"Buck!" Steve called, and Bucky turned around just as he'd pressed one of the exploding balls he had into the lock. He dashed over to Steve and just about tackled him to the ground when it exploded, causing the whole compound to shake. 

"Who the _fuck_ was that?" came Clint's yell over the comm, but Bucky was already up on his feet and running into the room where some of the roof had collapsed, leaving the snowy ground above them visible. The rest of the room was empty, no chairs or beds or lamps, just a dimly lit room that was being enlightened by the winter sun.

"Me," Bucky said into his comm distantly. "Stark, mark my location as an exit."

"Did you just blow a fucking hole in the roof?" Tony asked incredulously. 

"I was trying to open a door."

"And so you just made it go _boom_?! Avengers code, at least _try_ to not cause too much property damage," Clint exclaimed.

"The door was in my way," Bucky said simply. "It's not my fault they made the ceiling thinner than the walls. And who gives a shit about property damage? When I get my hands on Ralph, I'm gonna cause him tons of fucking property damage."

"Think of it as an exercise to not blow stuff up in the future," Cap said from behind him. "Come on."

Bucky spun on his heel when suddenly another explosion shook them all, making Cap grab a wall to steady himself and Bucky as he came barreling into him. 

"...That wasn't me," Bucky said into the comms.

"That was me," Natasha said casually.

"Traitor," Clint said, sounding hurt. "We _just_ yelled at him about the explosives. You were _listening_ to us yell at him about the explosives."

"The doors are reinforced steel and thicker than Bucky's thighs. I'm strong, but I'm not that strong," she explained.

"Iron Man," Steve sighed into the comms. "Could Bucky and I manage to open a door as thick as Bucky's thighs together?"

"He's got really muscular thighs," Tony mused. "I say go for it. It should work."

They jogged over to another door, and grabbed hold of it together.

"Ready?" Steve asked. Bucky nodded. "One. Two. Three!" They pulled quickly together, and the door opened with an aggravated screech. Bucky was inside the room and yelling at the armed men in there to 'get the fuck on the floor' before Steve had even let go of the door. He was so proud of Bucky for not shooting them already.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint were dashing through hallways, into empty rooms, disarming men as they went and incapacitating them as quickly as efficiently as they always did. But now there was an extra spark, something to make them both kick a little harder, punch a little faster, get them down so that they could keep moving. They needed to find Emma, and they needed to find her _now_.

Tony and Thor were wrecking the halls, busting ass and wrecking doors, until they stopped by a door made out of dark wood, with a small window in it.

"Well aren't you out of place," Tony said, quirking an eyebrow at it. Thor leaned down to peer through the glass, and his eyes widened. 

"There are children in here," Thor exclaimed, and grabbed the handle, snapping the lock as he opened the door, and Tony followed, ready to comfort a bunch of children, when he stopped cold. 

Six little girls, sitting in a circle, with a corpse in the middle. All of them were hurt, injuries no small child should have at that age, and they were singing softly. They hadn't even looked up. 

"Children?" Thor said softly, crouching down to their level to seem less intimidating. The hammer came in contact with the concrete without a sound as he set it down, and Tony gave it a glare for defying the laws of physics.

"They're not real," Tony breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the heat scanner. 

"Are you certain, Man of Iron?" 

"It's a hologram," he replied easily as Thor swept his hand through one of the girls' hair. Her image flickered. "Separate 3D holograms, even. Probably a recording."

"So this has happened," Thor said mournfully as he swept his hand over the girl in the middle's arm. It went right through again, the images all flickering. They looked creepily real, almost impossible to tell from real people. 

"Yeah," Tony mumbled, and focused on the projector in the ceiling. Just as he thought. 3D holograms. He aimed a repulsor at it, and the shot made the images fritz out. "So no Emma, but a weird door and holographic girls." 

"I imagine it would have been far more traumatizing for young Emma to see this, than for us," Thor rumbled as he stood up, and Tony would've facepalmed himself if he hadn't been in the armor, because he'd always get a tiny dent on his helmet that would make Pepper snort.

"Of course! It's here for Emma!"

He spun around and opened the door, and looked toward the end of the corridor, where another huge metal door the width of Bucky's thigh was. He stomped over to it, and yanked it open, the heavy steel door giving under the armors strength. 

Tony stood stock still in shock as Thor came up behind him, and gasped. 

"Well, that's a little morbid," Tony mumbled to himself, staring at all the blood on the floor. Two distinctive lines of blood were drawn on one of the white walls, and underneath it, stood Emma's name. It was disconcerting to say the least. "Is... Jarvis, how much blood is that?"

"Some puddles are older than others, but my scans indicate it's around 3,4 pints of blood," Jarvis replied, and Tony balked. 

"Shit, she's lost tons of blood," he said, and stared at the names underneath hers. All of the people she knew, written in blood on the wall. Some were underlined once or twice, and Damian's name had a hand print over it. "Oh crap. She's gotta be having crazy flashbacks."

"She's convincing herself that we're real," Thor said quietly. Tony turned to look at him, and flipped the faceplate up. Thor looked sad, his usually happy face turned into a solemn mask of stone. "I've seen this many times before. Many prisoners who have escaped and then been recaptured want to convince themselves that there is a real world out there. That they didn't dream when they were free."

"That is all kinds of fucked up," Tony said, feeling anger rise in his chest like a flickering flame turning into a bonfire. 

"Indeed, Man of Iron," Thor said, his voice sounding suddenly darker. Angrier.

"We know where she was now, anyways. That's good," Tony said as he took a deep breath. He flipped the faceplate down again, and turned to leave. "Let's go find the son of a bitch that did this to her, huh?"

"Yes," Thor replied darkly. 

\---

The compound seemed too big to be under just one acre, but Bucky wasn't entirely sure how big an acre was supposed to be. Maybe this was just a small acre and Bucky was just so angry about what he was seeing that it made the time in the white halls underground feel longer. 

Probably that second thing. 

Truth is, Emma had told him few things about what she remembered from the institute. She'd told the others the basics, the forced to torture, tortured, needles part. But Bucky had gotten more of a vision. More details.

She'd told him that the walls back at the institute were whitewashed brick, the rooms small and the floors concrete. This reminded him too much of what she'd told him, the small rooms, the sick bastards that they'd fought off earlier. It was making him feel a little queasy. 

And then there were the chairs.

Some rooms they'd ran into had nothing but a metal chair welded to a metal plate on the floor in them, with a drain directly underneath the chair. The side of him that was still feeling the effects of being the Winter Soldier for a couple of decades appreciated the thinking that went into that, but when he pictured Emma sitting in that chair, the mild appreciation was replaced with rage, and he'd had to punch a wall.

They'd been trailing around in the white corridors for a while now, and it seemed as though they were returning to where they'd began. When they passed the door with it's metal bent fiercely and with a collapsed ceiling, Bucky felt himself grow impatient. 

"We'll go help the others," Steve said reluctantly. "Iron Man, what's your position?"

"We've passed, like, a billion of the same walls and haven't found shit," came Tony's aggravated voice. "We think we found where she was held before, but there was no trace of her. She's lost a lot of blood, but her healing factor is crazy at best, so she might be suffering from blood-loss, and she might not be. No way to really tell."

"Widow, Hawkeye, status report," Steve sighed as they stopped in front of the room with no ceiling. 

"So far, nothing," Natasha replied, robotically. "A couple of private quarters, but nothing is Ralph Coble's."

"We're coming to Iron Man and Thor then," Steve said, just as Bucky looked up, and saw a shadow dashing by out of the corner of his eye. 

"Copy that," Stark said. 

"You go ahead that way," Bucky said as Steve's finger fell from his ear, and motioned for the sharp turn in the concrete a few yards ahead of them. "I'm gonna do one more check. " Steve raised an eyebrow. 

"Need backup?" he asked.

"No. I got it," Bucky replied and shot off after the shadow, because that shadow was way too small to be one of Ralph's guys. Only two people it could be, really. One turn left, one turn right, two more lefts, and then he was grabbing the kid's arm with a bruising grip. 

There was an annoyed yelp of pain, and the kid struck at him, a punch that would've made Bucky double over if he hadn't been fast enough to grab the arm of the kid, and snarl at him. 

"I told you to stay home!" he hissed, and took in the black wrappings around the boy's face, because it was undoubtedly a boy, and a boy that he fucking _knew,_ even out of his civilian clothes. Now, he was all snazzed up in black clothing, a little loose where it mattered. It looked almost like a ninja-suit, even with the black fabric covering the entirety of his face, save for those blue eyes. The blue eyes that glared back at him, defiantly. The boy pushed his nose up a little, like the brat he was.

"You don't deserve any authority," came Damian's sneer, and Bucky made an aggravated noise close to a growl.

"Who gave you the right to decide that?"

"Who gave you the right to decide if I go or not? I was raised by _assassins_. I know what I'm doing."

"I was _brainwashed into killing people_. Big fucking deal." They stood there, scowling angrily at each other, and even if Bucky couldn't see the scowl, he knew it was there, he could feel it. It was practically the kid's main setting anyway. Bucky was far from deterred. "Go home."

"No."

"Stop being such an assbutt." 

"You stop it!" Damian snarled and pushed Bucky off of him. "This is my fight as much as it is yours!"

"How?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms. 

"She's my friend!"

"You're gonna get fucking caught!" he hissed. 

"I'm willing to sacrifice that to see her safe!" Damian exclaimed, practically vibrating with rage. Bucky reeled, taking a step back at the same time as Damian did. They stared at each other in shocked silence for a few seconds. 

"That's..." Bucky began, but Damian just spun on his heel and took off again. This time, Bucky followed him at a slower pace. "How did you even find us?"

"I gave you the information, and I'm not stupid," Damian snapped back. 

"Fair enough. How did you _get_ here then?"

"I have ways," Damian replied non-committally, and Bucky rolled his eyes, but walked after the small boy into the compound. Damian turned a corner, and Bucky followed, only to almost trip over a leg. "Did you do this?" he asked, his voice suddenly pinched. Bucky looked around, and gaped. 

"No," he breathed. 

The men he and Steve had zipped up earlier were scattered all over the big room, some throats slit and a bunch of bones broken. 

"The damage suggests that none of them fought back," Damian said as he sat back on his haunches like a cat, all panther-like grace. One of the men wriggled, and Bucky was on him in a second, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up. He gasped as Bucky pressed him up against a wall, and Bucky noted the broken nose, the sprained arm that the guy clutched to his chest.

"Fuck," the guy breathed. 

"Who did this?" Bucky asked darkly. 

"The fucking kid. Went nuts and killed all of them."

"The redhead?" Bucky asked, sounding surprised even to his own ears. 

"Fucking batshit, I tell you," he rasped, and spat some blood out. 

"I find that highly unlikely," Damian said from behind Bucky. "The way this went down, someone had to be a lot stronger than her."

"She just flicked knives like it was a game," the guy shuddered. Bucky used his hold on the guys collar to slam him back into the wall, and his eyes flickered shut as he collapsed on the floor. 

"She's flipped the switch," Bucky murmured. 

"She has what?" Damian scowled. 

"Emma was taught how to kill aggressively and quickly. It's muscle memory. Cap described seeing me going into 'winter soldier mode' as flipping a switch. From me to Winter Soldier. Emma has a switch too, but she hasn't used it in almost a year, at least. This is her flipping the switch."

"We have to flip it back then," Damian said resolutely, and Bucky thought that maybe he could try to get along with Damian if he could keep saying things like that.

"As soon as humanly possible," he agreed. 

\---

She couldn't remember moving this fast in forever. People and walls blended together as she ran through the white sterile hallways, and anything that tried to stop her was quickly disarmed and incapacitated. Emma felt her legs move but never felt the touch of concrete against the soles of her feet, but she kept running anyways, and were there still explosions or was that just the ringing in her ears?

Maybe Emma'd been running around for hours, maybe minutes, but she wasn't seeing any Avengers, or Bucky, and it was kind of upsetting her. Maybe it wasn't them. Maybe she'd done all of this in vain. 

The thought made her stop cold. Maybe they still hadn't found her at all. Maybe they'd given up. She stood there like a deer in headlights, and her thoughts felt like they were being mixed together in a blender, so jumbled and disconnected. What was she going to do? There was a chance that she could get out of here alone, but what then? She had no clue where she _was_.

Emma snapped out of her chaotic thinking when she heard a familiar voice, and turned her head towards a dark hallway. 

 _Ralph_.

The rage that suddenly overcame her could've overpowered even the Hulk, and without thinking, she ran towards the dark hallway, to the door at the end of it. Her foot came in contact with the metal, and it came off it's hinges with a loud sound as it burst into the room, bringing three men to the ground with it. 

The room was full of henchmen, and on the other side of the room, stood Ralph, a smile on his face. 

"Come get me," he mouthed, and the word 'henchmen' turned into 'obstacles' in her mind as she studied the mass of bodies. 19 of them, not including Ralph. 

Easy.

The first one, she got in the knee. He came at her, and she crouched and used her knife to slice the ligaments in his knee, and when he toppled, she grabbed his shoulders to smash his face into the concrete floor, and flipped over him to get her bigger knife into the gut of another one of them. 

Emma wasn't even sure that she could feel the rest of her body anymore. Everything happened so quickly, her body was on auto-pilot, she had to get to Ralph and beat him senseless, and these were obstacles. Unnecessary dead weight that Ralph was pushing onto her, to keep her from harming him. Well, she wasn't going to put up with that. 

The last man was shoved off of her body viciously, and in a second, she had punched Ralph hard in the stomach and had him on his knees, his head yanked back to bare his neck. His eyes were glittering, and he still had the decency to smile. Emma yanked his head back further, letting her knife rest against his throat. 

"Look at _you_ ," Ralph rasped, something like awe in his voice. Emma panted, suddenly feeling all the punches her body had taken, as if hearing his voice had snapped her out of a trance. He smiled at her, like she was something beautiful and something to cherish, and she let go of his hair, instead grabbing his shirt and pulling his face to snarl at him.

"Shut up," she said, and her voice came out a mere whisper instead of the growl she was aiming for.

"You're so good, my little star. You've taken out so many of my men. It took you this so-called escape attempt to unlock your full potential, but _look at you now_. Such controlled grace. You took these guys out in seconds," Ralph continued, lifting one hand to point at the bodies, his voice still breathless. 

Emma looked around, staring at the dead bodies around her. She'd killed them. She'd killed them all, with no remorse whatsoever. Wasn't that how she separated herself from the monster he had tried to create? In shock, Emma dropped his collar, and took a look at her hands. So blood-stained. Red under her fingernails and in her cuticles. How could she ever have touched anyone with these hands without staining them?

"Beautiful," Ralph crooned as he stood up slowly. "Just like I trained you to be. Such a good little star."

"No," Emma croaked, her voice sounding strangled as she tasted blood in her mouth. She wasn't like he'd made her. _She wasn't._

"But _yes_ ," Ralph said, walking over his dead men like they were dolls, spread out for his taking. Like he could pick his favorite and make her do it again. "So efficient. I should have thought of this before. Look at what you did. Do you see it? How beautiful death is? How easy it is to take a life? Such a pretty thing, a human life." Ralph trailed up behind her as she stood frozen in place, staring at the victims and still unseeing. He brushed her hair over one of her shoulders, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Killing is in your DNA. I put it there. You do it so beautifully, my little star. Go prove yourself."

He gave her a small shove towards the door as more men welled in, and Emma felt her stiff limbs relax before they tensed again, ready to fight, until she heard a sudden crash. 

A shield flew over the heads of the men, who stopped their incoming attack and turned around, only to be knocked over in waves. Thor roared angrily as he swung his hammer to knock them over, and Iron Man blasted through the crowd, and Emma was frozen in place as she stared as Steve's shield. It bounced into Ralph's ribs, and he doubled over again, crashing into the wall behind him with the force of it. Emma stared as the shield rolled over the concrete floor, and moved to pick it up, because Steve would want it back.

She saw her bloody hands move towards the perfect shine of his shield, and stopped. She was so bloody. Emma's eyes flittered over the dead bodies, and then towards her wholesome family, beating their way through the crowd. 

And then she ran.

\---

"Hawkeye, Widow," came Steve's crackle over the comms.

"Yeah?" Natasha asked breathlessly, her heartbeat picking up.

"We found Emma," he said, and Clint exhaled a stuttered breath as Natasha nearly collapsed against a wall with relief. 

"Is she okay?" Clint asked quickly, and the reply came too slow, Steve never took these long pauses unless something had happened, and when the comm clicked again, Natasha was grabbing Clint's arm, ready to run and rescue their daughter, when Stark spoke up. 

"Yeah, we found her, but she saw us and bolted."

"Emma ran away? That seems unlikely," Natasha said slowly. 

"Not very," Bucky piped up. "She's in a bad place."

"How bad?" Clint asked nervously, meeting Natasha's concerned eyes. Bucky seemed to consider how to answer that. 

"Steve used a good metaphor a while ago," he said carefully. "When I turn into the Winter Soldier, it's like someone flipped a switch on the inside, turning me into well, him."

"Someone's flipped her switch," Natasha exhaled, closing her eyes briefly to gather herself. Was that anger or tears burning in her throat?

"Exactly. The people Cap and I tied up earlier are dead. She's been here."

"Fuck," Clint said, eloquently. "But why would that make her bolt?"

"You should see her hands," Tony said. "They look like they've been dipped in blood."

"She feels guilty," Bucky suggested. "Maybe don't let the goodie-two shoes approach her next time, yeah?"

"I'm not sure if I should be offended or flattered that you called _me_ a goodie-two shoes," Tony said, and Bucky didn't even grace that with a reply, instead looking down on Damian, who was impatiently tapping his foot on the floor.

"Well? Did that give you any clues?" he asked sourly, and Bucky shoved him out of the way. 

"She was just seen where Thor and Stark and Cap are, which means that she's coming our way. That enough of a clue for you?" he snapped. 

The cloth covering Damian's mouth moved, as if he was going to say something, when a sound startled them both to turn towards the hall they'd just come from. They stood completely silent, both in battle stances, breaths suddenly silent. They waited, until a ragged panting could be heard hurtling towards them, and Emma appeared. 

She was so bruised and bloody that Bucky honestly wondered how she was standing up like that, her hair was a mess of dried blood and dirty locks, looking more like a birds nest than actual hair. Her usually so bright eyes were dazed, and she was favoring her right leg, leaning most of her weight on that one. Speaking of leg, her left leg was a bloody mess of gashes and her wrists, cut from restraints. Whatever clothes she had been wearing when she'd gotten here were but a memory, and instead something resembling a black tanktop, half ripped to shreds, was covering her upper torso. What he assumed used to be sweatpants were shorts now, a tourniquet was tied to her left upper thigh, probably made from a strip of tanktop. 

Emma looked like hell, in short. 

"Emma," Damian said, and her wild look snapped up to them. Quickly, Damian unwound the wrappings around his face. He repeated her name again, and her chest heaved. The knives in her hands, that Bucky hadn't even noticed when he assessed her state, were being rhythmically clenched, as if Emma wasn't sure what to do with them. 

"Damian?" came a croak, and Damian nodded. Her bleary eyes focused on Bucky. "Bucky?"

"Yeah doll," Bucky said, feeling like the response was being punched out of his lungs. He dropped to his knees in front of her. "Come on. We can take you home." 

Something in Emma's eyes changed, and they went from bleary to zeroed in on something, and then she shook her head, a quick snap that would've given a mere mortal whiplash. 

"C-can't," she whispered, and started backing away. "I can't." 

"Emma, wait!" Bucky called as she turned and ran, ran faster than he knew she could, further into the maze. 

"Why can't?" Damian asked the empty air where she'd been. Neither made a move to follow her. "All the words of the English language at her disposal, and she used 'can't'. Why?"

"I don't know, kid," Bucky said as he stood up again, slowly, and pressed a finger to his comm. "Hawkeye, Widow. Had a run in with Emma. She's not okay. Don't let her get away but don't mention getting out of here."

"She ran away from you too? _Shit_ , that's bad," Clint replied and tugged his hair. Natasha watched him with a blank face, but he could see how nervous she was by the way her fingers twitched around her guns.

"Tell me about it. It's up to you two to get her to get off the battle-high."

"Got it," Natasha said sharply, and she could practically hear the entirety of the team's eyebrows raise, and resisted the urge to yank the comm out of her ear.

"Hey Natasha?" Stark said, and Natasha braced herself for a stupid comment. 

"Yes Iron Man?" she asked, not kindly, but not unkindly either. 

"We're going to find her. She'll be fine," he said, almost gently. Natasha bit her tongue. 

"Okay."

"We've got this," he assured her. "Work your maternal magic." And there went Tony's moment. It was almost a relief that he wasn't trying to be nice anymore. 

"Whatever you say, mom," Natasha replied, and heard Tony's huff of amusement, before she was moving towards a room, with Clint trailing behind her. 

"Don't I get any comfort?" Clint asked, his face blank but his tone mock-hurt. 

"If you wanted comfort you would be asking for it," Tony replied. "Widow would never do that."

"Cause I'm the only one on this team that thinks affection is cool, right," Clint replied, and Natasha put a finger to his lips to shush him. He immediately silenced himself, and listened. 

They both snuck into the doorway on their right, only to be met with a weird passage. Metal railings lined the lit, narrow walk over to the other side of the room. Clint looked down into the darkness underneath the random bridge-like formation, and saw nothing. 

"This is a weird room," he stated, and Natasha shushed him, signing ' **concentrate** ' at him. Confused, Clint stayed silent, and focused. 

His hearing wasn't as keen as it had been before the arrow incident, but with the hearing aids, it was practically normal people hearing level, which he was thankful for. Natasha's hearing was now far better than his, but he could still make out a small pitter-patter sound coming from ahead of them. 

The pitter patter of feet on concrete. 

Both held completely still, and held their breath, until a small figure skidded around the corner, and ran towards them. 

Emma stopped about six feet away from them, and when Natasha said stopped, she meant seized up mid-step, and inhaled sharply. 

"Hey Em," Clint said carefully, and watched as Emma's body grew even more tense. "Please don't run, alright? You're good. We've got you." There was a long silence, and then Emma whimpered.

"I killed them," she whispered, and Natasha felt her heart break. "I killed so many of them." 

"We know, возлюбленный," she said, and shoved her guns into her holsters. There was a hitch in Emma's breathing at the nickname. "We know you didn't want to."

"I still did it," she argued, meekly, and Natasha took a small step towards her. 

"We've all done shit things," Clint countered. 

"But you're superheroes," Emma said softly. 

"I think you tend to forget where we came from a lot, honey," he said, so gently, the kind of ' _honey_ ' that made Emma want to curl up in his embrace. She still tasted the metallic tang of blood whenever she swallowed, still heard the screams of the guards over the beat of her heart in her head. "We've done our fair share of bad things too. It's the kind of things that make you want to be a hero."

"I don't want to be a hero," Emma mumbled and looked at her hands, examining them, and then added, almost sounding a little scared, "I don't think I can be."

"Anybody can be a hero," Natasha said softly. "You just need the right someone or something to guide you. And I know that this is not what you want to be." Looking up from her hands, Emma met both pairs of eyes looking at her, and her lower lip trembled. 

"This is not me," she said, and swallowed.

"It really isn't," Clint agreed gently, staring at Emma as her hands shook. She clutched them to her chest.

"I'm so sorry," came a quiet whisper. 

"We know you are, возлюбленный," Natasha murmured. "Come here. We'll help you wash the blood off your hands." 

The symbolism wasn't lost on her, nor Clint, because he gave her a soft look from the corner of his eye.

Emma looked at them both, eyes wide and filled with tears, and Natasha wasn't sure whether it was Emma that reached out first, but somehow she ended up in Natasha's arms, and it's Emma that's hugging her, and Natasha felt relief so strong that she might actually cry. She heard Clint inhale wetly, crushing Emma from the other side, and heard Emma sob from in between them. 

"Come on sweetie, let's head out," Clint mumbled as she turned around in their embrace, and he hoisted her up as if she was three and not thirteen, cradling the back of her head and holding her as tight against him as he could without hurting her. Natasha found that she couldn't go a second without reassuring herself that Emma was here, Emma was fine, so she grabbed Emma's bloody hand and intertwined their fingers.

"We've got her," Natasha said as she pressed the pointer finger of her other hand to her ear. The shakiness of her voice surprised her. "We're coming out now." She squeezed Emma's hand, and marveled as Emma squeezed it back.

They'd done it.

\---


	63. Recovering And Window Swing-By's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reactions over the last chapter was like, so fun to read because you were all just kind of panicking and I was panicking with you. We're chill now, though. Now for some wind-down.  
> Happy (really) belated easter and whatnot?  
> Enjoy!

 

Damian was sent off after a brief struggle, Ralph was hauled to Shield, and Bucky passed the heavily beaten man over to Coulson, who gave the guy one look, and then took in the faces of all the Avengers. 

"I see," he said, to nobody in particular, and had some agents slap cuffs onto him and lead him away. 

"We'll be coming back for him," Tony said cheerfully, and Coulson nodded. He gave Clint's arm a squeeze before they left, and that look that still managed to make Clint feel weirdly calm.

The two, very worried and parental, agents refused to let go of Emma, which she found very amusing, until she started feeling the effects of the scramblers and all the bloodloss, and then she was collapsing and scaring the shit out of all of the Avengers.

They'd taken her to a Shield issued hospital, because Bruce was on a plane home, and nobody really had any medical experience that dealt with all of this at once. Shield doctors had taken a look at her, and exchanged mildly worried looks, which, for Shield doctors, was almost the same thing as screaming for back up. All the Avengers were banned from her room by a pissy Maria Hill as they looked her over, and when Bruce arrived, he was allowed inside only because of his medical experience.

Shield medical could only hold them off for so long, and when Clint and Natasha started plotting how to get inside without having to seriously injure Hill, Bruce opened the door, and let them all in. 

Emma's leg was in a cast, her hands washed, and her hair had been pulled up to show the stitches on the side of her head. A needle was stuck in her arm, that lead to an IV bag, and there was a machine monitoring her heartbeat, as well as her breathing. All the cuts had been cleaned on her body, and her hair had been washed, shining it's beautiful, bright red. 

Clint had a flashback to the first time he'd really seen Emma, small and frail in a hospital bed after he and Natasha had rescued her from Inferno. Her hair still looked the same, only longer now, still just as wavy, if not wavier. Had Clint known how much she would mean to him almost a year later, he would've hugged her back then.

Now, he had to settle for sitting down on one side of her bed, Natasha taking the seat on the other side, and Bucky standing by her feet. The others filed in as well, but Clint was too occupied with listening to the steady beeping of Emma's heartbeat to really notice. 

"How the fuck did this happen?" Bucky asked after they'd all stood there in silence for a few moments. "How _could_ it happen?"

"We already knew that her healing factor was unreliable, the measles were proof of that," Bruce said contemplatively. 

"Measles and being captured and tortured isn't the same thing. That didn't scare her. This did. Why aren't her powers working now?" Natasha asked quietly, stroking Emma's limp fingers. 

"It could have something to do with them being intensely repressed for the past couple of days," Bruce suggested. 

"They're scared," Emma sighed and shifted as she opened her eyes, startling everyone in the room. 

"Hi sweetie," Clint said softly, giving her a little smile as he stroked her cheek, minding the cut on it. Bucky's real hand, without the glove, came down to rest on her uninjured ankle, and she smiled at him too, a dazzling kind of smile that made Bucky feel a little weak at the knees. Apparently Steve was a mindreader, because he used his foot to pull a chair up behind him, and pushed Bucky down into it. "Feeling any pain?"

"Nope," Emma said, shaking her head a little as she smacked her lips. "Water?"

Natasha brought an ice chip to her lips, and Emma made a small, happy noise as she sucked it into her mouth. The entirety of the team seemed to relax a little at the noise, and Thor relaxed against one of the walls, his huge shoulders sinking a little as tension seeped out of them. 

"My powers are scared," she repeated and blinked a little. Her eyes were glassy with the pain meds, but she didn't seem to mind. She was probably just spouting nonsense, but the others still exchanged worried looks. 

"Scared?" Bruce asked mildly.

"Mhm," Emma nodded, sighing quietly. "They're scared of him."

"Ralph?" Natasha clarified.

"Ralph is such a fuckass," she mumbled, and turned a little in the bed, immediately tensing up with pain. She made a noise and grimaced, and Clint gently guided her onto her back again. 

"Try not to move, yeah?" he mumbled soothingly. Emma nodded and closed her eyes again. "Good."

"You got him?" she asked. 

"We got him, honey," Clint smiled and stroked her hair, minding the stitches on the side of her head. "We're sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." Matching looks of guilt plagued the occupants of the room, and Emma's eyes snapped open, narrowing angrily.

"Stop blaming yourself," she demanded immediately. "I'm fine."

"You've got two broken ribs, multiple cuts all over your body in differentiating degrees of seriousness, a headwound that had to be stitched up with seven stitches, a crack in your left tibia, a broken nose, wrists gnawed on from wire, two fractured vertebrae. The cherry on top of that pain cake, is that you're also suffering from blood loss, and a hell of a weird concussion," Tony said, appearing in the doorway with three cups of coffee. "I think we all have the right to blame ourselves for not finding you faster."

"Shut up," Emma muttered as Tony handed one of the cups to Bruce, another one to Bucky, and the last one to Clint. "I'll be fine."

"You'd be fine a lot faster if your powers worked," Tony said, his eyebrows furrowing. "Which they probably won't be doing for a while."

"What?" Natasha asked sharply, staring at Tony. His look morphed from worried to angry and hateful.

"The thing he had that fucked with her powers? That's some freaky tech. It's kind of like... A dogwhistle, if you will," Tony said, with that look on his face that he had when he had to dumb something down for people to get it. "Like how dogs can hear that, the serum in Emma's body responds to that signal, and shuts down brain functions like she's been punched in the head.

Now, on low mode, she described it as a buzzing. That's just the serum itself shutting down, taking away her usual abilities, like the strength, the healing, the explosiveness. Medium mode is more rattling, and will make conscious thought harder. High mode... It can shut down organs, make her black out. And be in effect much longer than the signal. It could take weeks for Emma's abilities to come back."

The room descended into a stunned silence. 

"But it could also take days," Bruce remarked, turning towards Tony. "I recall their notes saying that she was still resisting the full effects. The 'serum', that wasn't even entirely completed, isn't 'connected to her mind', and unstable and unreliable. I'm sure her healing ability is still fluctuating because of the unstable state that it was injected into her, and it's fully possible that it can return a lot sooner than a few weeks."

"Jarvis scanned her earlier. So far, her brain-waves show no sign of her powers coming back."

"Could they have been overheated?" Clint asked, for lack of a better word. "As in her powers were so scrambled that they've disappeared?"

"No," Tony and Bruce said at the same time. 

"It's highly unlikely. You can't fry Steve's super serum out of him, and not Natasha's either. Emma's isn't too different," Bruce amended, motioning for the silent Natasha.

"Great," Emma muttered. "I'll miss even more of school."

"Don't think about that," Clint chided gently, and watched as Natasha intertwined their fingers. "School is boring."

"You're boring," Emma sighed softly and smiled at him. Clint smiled back at her, a smile laced with pain. "Chill, guys. I'll be up and running in a day or two. Don't you worry 'bout a thing."

"I'm glad you're so optimistic," Bruce said, a small smile accompanying the worried furrow of his brow. 

"Someone has to be," she pointed out. "Otherwise you'd all be super grim. Like, super duper grim."

"Alright, alright, come on, relatives only," a nurse came in saying, shooting them all glares. She was in her late fifties, looking tired of superhero bullshit and generally done with it. Emma decided immediately that she liked her. 

"They're all my relatives," Emma pointed out sleepily.

"Parents only then. Come on, shoo, let the little girl rest," she said, making shooing motions that even the great god of thunder couldn't resist. He was swept out, as well as Steve and Tony and Bruce, and they called their goodbyes on the way out. The small nurse glared at Bucky pointedly, who glared back.

"No," he said as soon as she opened her mouth. "I'm not leaving."

"Are you her parent?" the nurse asking, raising an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his threatening posture. 

"No," he replied reluctantly. 

"Then I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," she said. He stood up, abruptly, and seemed to inflate like a balloon, trying to look imposing and failing to impress anybody in the room with it. Emma giggled. The small angry nurse only reached up to Bucky's shoulder, but she didn't look any less authoritative for that. Her eyebrows furrowed. "What are going to do, stab me? I've worked here for years. Don't think you're scaring me. If you want your friend to get better, you need to leave."

"Oh please, can he stay?" Emma whined from her bed, and the nurse pursed her lips. Natasha recognized this no-nonsense nurse, she'd been around to patch Clint and herself up many times, scattered over their years at Shield. She couldn't recall her name, however. 

"Only parents or partners, hun," she said apologetically. "He doesn't seem like either."

"He's my partner in crime," Emma said very seriously, and Natasha huffed out a laugh. 

"This is really not the place to spill our criminal beans, Em," Bucky replied just as seriously, and Emma snickered. 

"Charlotte, right?" Clint said to the nurse, showing off his pearly whites with one of his charming old lady smiles, because of course Clint knew the names of the nurses and doctors running around here. Bucky wasn't even relatively surprised. Charlotte seemed to recognize him, because her eyes narrowed. 

"Agent Barton. Again. I haven't seen you around here in quite a while. I almost thought you'd quit throwing yourself headfirst into danger," she said dryly, and Clint grinned sheepishly. 

"Nope," he said. "Though this time it's the next generation doing that." 

"I gathered," Charlotte said, her mouth forming a tight line. 

"Say, can't we make an exception for old Bucky here? They're kind of weirdly best friends, and I'm not sure how much longer they can handle the separation," he said, and Emma gave him a mildly affronted look. 

"Weirdly? _You_ are weird. We're not weird," Emma complained.

"We're pretty weird, doll," Bucky argued. 

"Dude, I'm trying to win our case here."

"It's not working," Charlotte cut in. "Parent or partner or leave."

"Please let him stay," Emma whined. "I'm injured and small and sad." Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

"I see you've gotten your father's terrible sense of humor."

"Hey!" Clint exclaimed, sounding offended but at the same time proud. Natasha sighed softly. 

"Just let him stay, they're going to be inseparable for the next couple of days," she said flatly, and Charlotte exchanged a look with Natasha. A few seconds of staring, and then she sighed. Charlotte took her defeat with pride, pushing Bucky back down in his seat and walking out. Emma could distinctively hear her cursing agents and their stubborn friends, and giggled happily at the notion. Bucky smirked at her. 

"Partners in crime?" he asked. 

"Partners in crime, bro," she said, and Bucky squeezed her ankle lightly. 

"Go to sleep, возлюбленный," Natasha said, giving Emma's cheek a soft caress. "We'll be here when you wake up." The daughter turned to look at her mother, and there was an insecure shine in her dimmed eyes. 

"Promise?" she asked weakly. 

"Promise," Natasha said firmly, and kissed Emma's hand. 

\---

It took Emma waking up twice more before she could convince her parents to go home and shower, because, as she proclaimed loudly, "you all smell like sweat and explosives, and it's really gross, shooower". It was agreed that Clint and Natasha would go home and shower and Bucky would stay, and then they'd trade off. 

"I'm gonna need some variation if I'm gonna be staying here for weeks," Emma remarked. "I demand rotation of all the Avengers."

"Demand, huh?" Clint smiled as he kissed her hair.

"Yes. This is like when I was sick, I can make demands. You're all my peasants now," Emma said, and Natasha smirked. 

"Careful there, your majesty, don't let the power go to your head," she said, reluctantly letting go of Emma's hand. Bucky took her place by the bed, and they shared a look that burned with protectiveness and resolve. Clint and Bucky exchanged a similar look right before the two agents awkwardly hung around the door, looking reluctant as hell to leave. 

"Go, before I have that scary small nurse throw you out," Emma said, waving with the arm that didn't have a needle in it. "C'mon, the sooner you go, the sooner you can come back."

"Alright, fine, we're leaving," Clint said, inching towards the door slowly, if only to hear Emma's glorious laughter. 

"Go!" she giggled, and he flashed her a grin before Natasha pushed him out the door. 

"We promise to bring your phone and something to do with us later," she said, and was then pulled from the room by Clint. "See you later!"

"Bye!" Emma laughed, and then rolled her head a little to really look at Bucky. He was still in his Winter Soldier gear, still had a glove on his metal hand, and Emma glared at it. 

"You look like an angry kitten," he told her. 

"You took you-know-who to the whole rescue shebang," she accused. 

"I didn't bring Voldemort anywhere," Bucky said, looking mildly confused, and Emma rolled her eyes. 

"That's a horrible joke, and I love you for it, but I'm serious here, Buck," she yawned, looking at him determinedly. "I know he was there. I remember that."

"What do you remember, exactly?" he asked. Emma's look went from dazedly-sharp to distant, and her heartbeat sped up a little. She shot the machine that kept betraying her a glare, and Bucky huffed out an amused laugh.

"I mean... Things. I remember things. Lots of things. Some girls singing."

"Stark told me to tell you that wasn't real," he remembered out loud. Stark had told Natasha and Clint about where Emma had been staying, and Clint had clenched his hand so hard around his cup of coffee that it had crumpled and spilled all over his hand and the floor. "He and Thor found a projector in the ceiling."

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, looking more relieved than he'd seen her in quite a while. "It wasn't real?"

"They were 3D holograms," he said, and Emma laughed a little, looking up at the ceiling with a small smile on her face. 

"Oh man," she breathed. "That makes me really insanely pleased."

"Stark said it might," he nodded. 

"Wait, fuck, we're off topic," she said, squinting at him. "You shouldn't have let him come."

"I didn't," Bucky said defensively. "I told him to stay home. Didn't do what he was told."

"You gotta earn his respect to boss him around," Emma said with a nod. "Otherwise he won't give a shit about you."

"I noticed." Emma giggled, and grabbed his metal hand, tugging the glove off with small, jerky movements before resting her cheek on it, like it was made to be her pillow and not a weapon. Her fingers circled his metal wrist loosely, as if she was keeping him in place by just that light grip. "He really seems to like you."

"Yeah," she said softly, a finger tracing the seam of one of the plates in his arm. "I really like him too. You don't approve?"

"I like Layla better," he said, and Emma snorted loudly.

"I can imagine. Layla is cool."

"Cooler than Damian," Bucky said, his face shifting to a frown when Emma blinked a little at the lights. Painmeds aside, Emma had probably been fighting with the loud noises and the lights for a while now. Bucky had had his head messed with a lot. He knew this stuff. "Too bright?" 

"A little," she admitted sheepishly, and Bucky tried to tug his hand away to turn the lights off, but the hand Emma had closed loosely around his wrist tightened. "Don't leave," she breathed, and he swallowed thickly. 

"I'm not leaving, doll," he promised. "Never again." Emma made a little sniffling noise, and he leaned forward to lean his forehead against hers. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but Bucky shifted his weight and closed his eyes as Emma's small fingers grabbed at his long hair instead, closing her eyes as well. 

"We're never leaving you again, you got that?" he whispered, afraid as his voice betrayed him and the emotions welling up in his chest. A fierce desire to protect her from all harm, something warm making it harder to breathe as his lungs tried to keep up. If he hadn't read a couple of stupid books and watched a bunch of silly movies, he'd probably never had understood that what he felt was bone-deep love. One of his very few loved ones, possible the one truly loved one, was hurt, and he hadn't been there to protect her. Bucky felt Emma nod against his forehead, and as soon as the feelings had overwhelmed him, just as quick were they to retreat to the shadows. "Good. Never ever."

"Weee, are never, ever, eveeer... Getting back togetheeer," Emma hummed under her breath, and Bucky leaned back up to chuckle quietly at her. 

"Please don't sing Taylor Swift."

"You know you love her."

"I don't love her, you do."

"So, you're gonna have to suffer through my Taylor Swift singing. Suck it up," she grinned sloppily, and Bucky let a small smile spread on his lips. "Sing Love Story with me, c'mon."

He shook his head but couldn't help to sing along when he saw Emma's eyes brighten just a little bit. 

\---

Clint and Natasha returned, and now it was Bucky's turn to go home. He was even more reluctant than the two agents had been. 

"C'mon Buck, you know you have to go home. You really stink," Emma said softly. Clint and Natasha watched from the doorway. Natasha's hair was still damp, and seeing as it was getting long again, she'd been able to sweep it up into a messy bun. Clint was wearing sweats now, ready to sit around on his ass for days. 

"I'm not leaving you," Bucky said firmly.

"You're like a less scary guard dog," she giggled. 

"I'm not," he protested, and she sighed loudly. 

"But if you don't go, who will deliver my hugs to Darcy and Jane and Peter?" she asked dramatically. 

"Stark, Thor, and Stevie?" he suggested, and Emma snorted. 

"I'll be right here when you get back," she promised, patting his hand. "I'm not going anywhere. You need to go home, and shower, and eat, and maybe catch a couple of z's while you're at it."

"I can sleep here."

"Don't make me get Charlotte," Emma threatened, and Bucky's mouth turned into a tense line. 

"Fine," he sighed, and Emma beamed at him. 

"Give me a kiss," she demanded, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek softly, receiving a one-armed squeeze around the neck in return. "Bye Bucky, see you later!"

Reluctantly, Bucky trailed out of the room, and got a pair of keys tossed to him by Clint before Natasha walked him out of the room. 

"I'm going home," he said carefully as she followed him out of the Medical ward. 

"I know," Natasha replied. They made quite a pair, he thought, as they passed a couple of agents in the hallway. It looked more like they were scared of Natasha, though. She managed to look like she could kill you with just a flick of her fingernail, even in yoga pants and a dark gray hoodie and messy hair.

The Winter Soldier was practically a myth, but the Black Widow? There were probably rumors that she could interrogate a man and get all the answers out of him without having to lay a hand on him, using nothing but her sly smile and murderous threats.

"So I went looking for Emma's phone," Natasha said easily, as if this conversation wasn't going anywhere in particular, but Bucky had seen her attack the other members of the Avengers with the same light tone and knew this was another one of her 'friendly interrogations'. "And I was looking around for it in her bag, and when I couldn't find it there, I asked Jarvis to tell me where it was. And guess where he told me I could find it?"

"My room," Bucky said, feeling his shoulders stiffen a little. Natasha didn't even nod, she just seemed to be waiting for an explanation. They were silent for the entire way to the curb, where one of Stark's less flashy cars stood, and Natasha breathed out just a little heavier, People who didn't know her would've thought she just exhaled, but Bucky knew it for the exasperated sigh it was. 

"Why was it there?" she asked, no longer beating around the bush.

"Because I put it there," he replied, and Natasha smacked his arm and hissed a name at him in Russian, which made him huff and give in. "I missed her. Alright?" That wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. He'd missed her so much his chest had hurt, but he'd also been worried, and scared. Weird feelings that only a few could provoke. 

"You're not that sentimental," Natasha pointed out, eyebrow raising and slapping his hand away from the car door. 

"I can be sentimental," Bucky protested, and Natasha's other eyebrow raised. 

"James," she said, and Bucky rolled his eyes, making her close her mouth to stare at him in surprise. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"Yes. Because I need to go so that I can come back, and _you_ won't let me _move_." Natasha looked a little taken aback. 

"When was the last time you rolled your eyes before that?" she asked, and Bucky blanked. When _was_ the last time he'd rolled his eyes like that? "Emma's really getting to you, isn't she?"

"I'm not magically cured of my PTSD because of Emma," Bucky said, feeling like he needed to remind everybody of that, because he really wasn't. Nightmares still plagued him, flashbacks still came, but Emma was making him safer in his skin. He wasn't gonna bounce back from over 70 years of brainfucking in less than a year just because of some girl. He wasn't nearly cured, but he was a good way ahead of where he'd been a year ago.

"I know," Natasha said wistfully, looking up at the Shield building distractedly. Bucky's hand reached for the car handle again, and Natasha slapped it away for the second time. 

"Can I fucking leave or what?" Bucky groused, and Natasha pinned him with a look that he met with just as much composure. He supposed that's what Natasha liked about Barton. He was the only one who was brave enough to meet her stare and see them as clear and green, and not muddled with blood.

She stuck her hands in his pockets and he opened the door, sliding in into the seat. 

"Catch some sleep," Natasha demanded, and he sighed. Why was everyone bossing him around again? Emma he could handle, but the tiny scary nurse and Natasha too? 

"No," he said, just for the sake of being petty, and drove away. 

\---

Even after a night in the medical bay, Emma's healing powers were no closer to returning, and the worried parents were replaced with a Tony. Emma was happy to listen to him make snide remarks as he flipped through a magazine, and then when it rotated again, watch Steve draw things from memory that looked more like pictures than anything. When it was Bruce's turn to sit with her, they played word-games, making up stupid puns and looking up science jokes online. Thor was the greatest at telling stories, and the fact that a lot of his stories included Lady Sif sure didn't hurt. Jane and Darcy came along sometimes, to kiss her head and hold her hand and smile at her sadly (Jane), and to rile her up and kiss her several times all over the face (Darcy). 

But after a week of all of that, the nurses grew sick of constantly having some member of the Avengers, usually at least two of them, in their medical bay, and restricted their access to her to visiting hours. Of course, Clint and Natasha protested wildly and to the point where Hill had to step in so that none of the assassins would take a swing at Fury, and Bucky hid in the vents until he could climb down safely to sit with her. Charlotte probably noticed, but Charlotte also noticed the pained look Emma would get when there wasn't anyone around to distract her, so she let the two be most of the times.

Practically all of the Avengers had once sat alone in a hospital bed, just waiting to heal, so it shouldn't have seemed that odd when Emma one morning woke up to hear a tap against the window. 

Cracking her eyes open, she turned her head towards the window, and blinked twice when she saw Iron Man wave from the other side of the window. 

Immediately she was grinning, wanting to sit up. A stab of pain to her ribs made her fall back, but her grin did not falter. If anything, it grew wider when another figure joined Iron Man's side. 

The red cape billowed behind him, and Thor positively beamed at her, which made Emma lift a tired hand up to wave at them. Both waved back, and Emma could practically hear Thor's mirthful laugh from the other side of the glass. It made her feel warm and fluffy on the inside in a way that pain meds could never make her. 

"Hi guys," she murmured, even though neither of them could really hear it, and she laughed as Iron Man dove backwards into the air. Thor's confused face was really cute, and then suddenly Tony was boosting right back up again, doing a loop in front of her window but at least a good twenty feet away from it. 

Emma watched and giggled a little as Thor tried to do some air acrobatics of his own, and then she heard Charlotte's 'hrmphf' noise from the door.

"They sure can't seem to leave you alone in here to _rest_ ," she said, putting one hand on her hip in mild annoyance. Emma laughed as Thor practically swung Mjölnir against Iron Man's head accidentally, and snorted some more when Thor offered Tony a sheepish smile. 

"I _am_ resting, and it's so mind-numbingly boring," she complained. "They keep me busy."

"Speaking of busy, you have a visitor," Charlotte said, replacing Emma's IV bag before gently helping Emma into a more sitting position. She fluffed her pillows a little before she pressed a button and the back of the bed began slowly straightening up, letting Emma remain actually sitting for a while. Charlotte had already figured out early on that Emma was usually a bundle of energy and nerves, and that she needed to move, so the nurse had made sure that Emma got to move as much as possible in her current condition.

"Which one of them is it today?" Emma asked, yawning a little as she waved once more at Tony. Charlotte used her disappointed grandma stare, and Iron Man held his hands up in surrender before motioning for Thor to follow him. Thor waved to her, and Emma blew him a kiss that made him beam again.

"None of your usuals, for once," she sighed, and Emma's eyebrow quirked. 

"No? Are you sure they're not disguising themselves?" she asked suspiciously. 

"I'm pretty sure. Unless they know how to disguse themselves as small angry boys."

"Small angry boys?" Emma asked a little breathlessly, her heartbeat picking up. The monitor obviously caught onto that, and she was ready to launch that machine out through the fucking window by now. Charlotte's lips twitched as her wise eyes flicked towards the monitor. 

"Yeah, about this height, looked like a hundred bees swarmed into one person when he wasn't let in."

"Let him in," Emma demanded. Charlotte sighed. 

"You and your angry types," she said with a click of her tongue as she put a tray over Emma's legs. "As soon as you're done eating I'll let him in." Emma eagerly reached out for the yogurt. "And breathe between bites, I do not wanna be telling your parents you choked on your food in all your haste." 

"Yeah yeah," the redhead muttered, pouting as she peeled the lid off. 

After Emma had thoroughly eaten her breakfast and Charlotte had checked some of her injuries, rewrapping and cleaning a couple of stitches on her stomach, the nurse took the tray out. 

"Alright honey, I'm letting the hounds in!" Charlotte called. 

"Let them come!" she called back, and the familiar -tt- noise that came from outside her room was so heart-breakingly comforting that something in her chest ached.

"What movie are you referencing now, Barton?" Damian drawled as he walked into the room, fashionable black coat unbuttoned and dark jeans that looked brand new. His shirt was black, and he wasn't wearing the green hat, but it was stuffed into one of his coat pockets. His sharp blue eyes seemed to be scanning her, seeing all the injuries under the sheets and the weird hospital gown that Emma hated with a fiery passion. 

"Tv show, mind you," she laughed, head feeling a little lighter as Damian threw his coat over one of the chairs casually, looking perfectly content to stand. "Close the door for a sec, yeah?" 

Damian's eyes narrowed for a moment, and he scowled as he pushed the door closed and came to stand by Emma's bedside.

"Hi," she smiled up at him. 

"Hello," he replied in kind, still scowling a little. "You're badly hurt."

"Uh huh. And the whole 'I have a healing factor' thing? Not working out for me. I probably would've gotten myself poisoned at that gala, honestly. My healing factor does not give a single solitary shit about me right now."

"Welcome to the real world," he said distantly, his eyes locking on her hair. "You look pale."

"Thanks," Emma snorted. "Blood loss does that to you. Speaking of bloodloss, when I get out of this bed, I'm going to do a number on you. What the fuck where you thinking?" 

Damian's distant scowl turned into a full-blown frown. 

"I was thinking that my friend was in danger," Damian said sourly. "I've been scolded by the tin can opener already, save it."

"Wait, Tony?" Emma asked, looking beyond confused.

"Barnes," he clarified and Emma hummed. 

"You guys give such weird nicknames. 'Dickiebird'. 'Jaybird'. 'Demon spawn'. 'Tin can opener'. You weirdos," she smiled, and reached a hand out toward Damian. He hesitated for a second, but then took her hand. She knew that his hand wasn't a lot bigger than hers, but his fingers were a little thicker and his palm a little wider. Damian had nice hands that were always warm to hold. Emma liked that about him. 

"We are quite weird," Damian agreed, dragging a chair forward with a foot to sit in it without letting go of Emma's hand. 

"I think it takes a special kind of crazy to do what you do," she relayed quietly. "I dig the capes though. Only Thor wears a cape in my family. It's really sad."

"You wear a cape too," Damian pointed out helpfully, and Emma grinned at him. 

"That I do. Wait, fuck, you did something stupid. I wasn't done being pissy about that yet." Damian groaned and leaned his forehead against the bed, and Emma used her free hand to tousle through his black, spiky hair. "Dude, it was such a dumbass move. I have all rights to be pissy."

"You're my friend," Damian said stubbornly into the mattress as she kept caressing his hair. "I do what I damn well want." That made Emma grin again, and she stopped playing with his hair to adjust her own hair over the stitches in her head. Damian looked up, those icy blue eyes just taking her appearance in. 

"What did I miss of school?" Emma asked, and Damian sighed, looking bored. 

"Introductions to new areas. I believe we are to write an essay soon. You'll need a computer for that."

"Smartass," Emma snorted. "Maybe I can have Bruce help me write it. I'm not allowed that much screen time right now."

"Concussion then." More of a statement of fact than a question.

"Yup. Headwound too." Damian's eyes flitted up to the stitched on the side of her head. "We're cool though. I'm pretty sure Clint and Nat are on top of calling me in sick."

"Hopefully. Mr. Fitzsimmons did ask where you were, and I couldn't tell him the truth, but I lied sufficiently."

"Thanks, Dami, you're the greatest," she sighed happily, leaning back into the pillows again. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, neither sure from where to tackle this experience.

"I got the hoodie wrecked," Emma said sadly after a moment, and Damian looked confused maybe two seconds before understanding dawned on his features. 

"You were tortured and you worry about the hoodie?" he said, almost sounding disconcerted, and Emma nodded sleepily. 

"I really loved that hoodie," she mumbled. 

"You can have another one of mine," he assured her. Emma smiled at him.

"I want the light grey one."

"Why do you know what hoodies I own?"

"Because your butler loves me," she told him very seriously, and when his eyes narrowed, Emma laughed. "I've seen your closet Damian. I know what hoodies you own. And I want the light grey one."

"The one with the three stripes on the arm?"

"No, the other one with the other stripes that are darker grey."

"I like that hoodie," Damian said distractedly as his eyebrows furrowed, his thumb tracing the side of her hand.

"I'll let you borrow it," Emma promised, if only to have his scent in the fabric for a while longer. "Sometimes. Maybe."

Damian's small smirk made her feel really fuzzy on the inside, and she grinned at him. 

"So, what'd I miss of school?"

"You already asked me that. How severe is your concussion?"

"No clue. I'm pretty sure it's really severe," Emma said with a slight nod, and Damian's eyes swept over her injuries again.

"I'm sorry it took so long to find you," he said lowly.

"Not you too!" Emma groaned, and reached out with both hands to grab his face and squish it together. Damian's scowl made it all look so much cuter, and Emma made a giggly noise. "Seriously, everyone I know has a guilt complex a mile wide. You all need to take a chill pill. I'm here, I'm fine, and-"

"You're not fine," Damian cut out, his voice a little garbled from the squishing. He uncurled her fingers on his face, and scowled. "You're in the hospital."

"In a Shield hospital. How did you even know I was here?"

"The tin can opener."

"You put a tracker on him, didn't you." It wasn't even a question, just a statement, and the way Damian remained silent only answered her not-question further. She groaned. "You're all barbaric."

"I thought it was frankly much more civilized than following them here in the first place," he said in his stupid Damian way, and Emma wanted to laugh and she wanted to smack him and she wanted to kiss him. She went with her first option. 

"You weirdo," she laughed affectionately, and the fact that he'd actually gone looking for her in his own, stalkerish way was so sweet that she felt tiny tingles of all kinds of emotion in her chest. "C'mere."

Damian looked mildly confused, but let himself be dragged forward, and he made a small surprised noise when Emma kissed him. It was just a brush of lips, soft and steady in it's fragility, and when she let her head drop back to her pillow, Damian looked really dazed. He blinked a couple of times, and cleared his throat.

"Right," he said, and Emma smiled at him. "Should I leave before someone comes to try and murder me?"

"Probably," she agreed. "And watch your back when you leave. Hill can get really scary if she wants to be."

\---


	64. Fights And Valentines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a messy chapter because I'm currently a mess. Sorry about that. Lots of fluff, though. (Also yes I'm aware it's April, but it's not in this universe. Yet.)  
> Enjoy the read lovelies! <3

 

Happily munching away on her poptart next to Jane, Darcy was perfectly content. Bucky was out on a run with Clint, where they would probably pop into Shield to check up on Emma, forget about Bucky and Darcy's lunch plans, and then return looking confused by dinnertime. Darcy was used to it, and getting in between Emma and Bucky was the _last_ thing she wanted to do. 

Bucky needed Emma, a fact she had long since accepted, and Darcy was chill with it. As long as he still paid attention to her too. And boy, was Bucky good at concentrating on her when he wanted to. A pleasant shiver ran down Darcy's spine at the thought of it, and she sipped her espresso as she crossed her legs at the tingle in between them. 

"Director Fury is attempting to contact the tower," Jarvis said suddenly, and Jane raised an eyebrow at the ceiling. 

"The tower has a landline?" Darcy asked incredulously. 

"It does not, however it has a special line that Sir calls 'the asshole line' for when Justin Hammer, Director Fury and several of his business associates call."

"I'm not even remotely surprised," Darcy snickered as a panel in the wall opened to reveal what looked like a phone, actually attached to the wall with a chord. "Did Steve make Tony add this phone?"

"It's more Captain Rogers design than Sirs," he agreed, and Darcy picked it up, twirling the cord around her finger. 

"Yes Sir?" she said, in quite a good impression of Natasha, and Jane laughed quietly at her from her seat by the kitchen island. 

"Tell Stark and Thor to stop hanging around outside your kid's hospital room. It's unnerving to the agents and the nurses," Fury said blankly, and Darcy pictured him rubbing the bridge of his nose, thinking ' _these damn Avengers are gonna be the death of me_ '.

"Can't promise anything," Darcy laughed. "They seriously did that? Man, that's cute." 

"'Cute' is not the word I would use," Fury said, his voice hard in a way that made Darcy think of principals who tried to reprimand children for the thousandth time. 

"Eh, what can you do. I was gonna go visit her today too. Maybe not through the window though. Maybe I could borrow her gloves and stroll up," she said contemplatively. 

"I think Tony's making boots," Jane supplied. 

"Oh fuck that's cool," Darcy exclaimed. "I want those. Remind me to tackle him later, Jarvis."

"Reminder added to your schedule."

"Relay to Stark that I have no qualms about beating the shit out of him if he keeps intruding on Shield airspace," Fury growled. 

"Jay, tell Tony what he said," Darcy said with a distracted wave.

"Also tell him that we've processed Ralph Coble and that they're all free to... Visit." Darcy's smile turned into a frown. 

"Yeah. I'll be sure to do that. You get the clean-up crew ready and I'll send 'em over." Fury grunted his acknowledgement and hung up. 

Just as Darcy put the phone back and the panel slid back into place, the elevator doors opened, and Clint, Natasha, and Bucky came out, all looking mildly amused. 

"Hey guys! Guess what," Darcy said cheerfully, and she felt her cheeks heat up pleasantly when Bucky brushed his hand over her cheek on the way over to the fridge. 

"What?" Clint asked, and Natasha raised an eyebrow as she sat down next to Jane, taking a bite of Darcy's poptart. 

"You guys can go beat the shit out of Ralph!" she said, glancing over just in time to see Bucky's shoulders tense and the fingers of his metal hand open and close around the fridge handle. Natasha smiled, a smile that Darcy was glad wasn't directed at her, and Clint grabbed a coffee cup, his hand a little shaky. 

"Great. Let's do it," Bucky said, slamming the door closed. 

"Calm down, hotpants," Clint said, sipping his coffee breezily as Natasha stretched out in a catlike way. "We've got time. We're gonna go see Emma too."

"Right," Bucky exhaled. "You're not telling her about Ralph though, are you?"

"Of course not," Natasha said simply, and Darcy stole her cup of espresso from the assassins hands. 

"Leave my food alone," she pouted, and Natasha took one more bite of the poptart, only to receive 'the snake face' as Darcy so infamously called it, and she was forced to drop it back onto the plate and slide off the chair. 

"I'll go take a shower and we'll leave," Clint said, and smirked when Natasha followed him to the elevator. Jane took her cup of tea and her book, and strolled into the living room, where Bruce was no doubt lurking with his own book and tea. The bookworms needed their peace and quiet, and Darcy had no qualms about leaving them alone if Bucky was around, like he was now. 

He was even leaning on the kitchen island and locking eyes with her, looking thoughtful. She smiled at him.

"Have a good run?" she asked, and Bucky shrugged, biting his lip. 

"God, you're gorgeous," he said quietly, and Darcy's smile widened. 

"That makes two of us," she said. 

"I'm gorgeous?" he said, his eyebrows shooting up just a little.

"Yup," Darcy said firmly, and sipped her espresso. Damn, this was good coffee. She'd have to steal one of Tony's coffee machines if he ever tried to make her leave. 

Suddenly the espresso was replaced with Bucky's smooth lips, and she would've dropped the cup if it hadn't been for super soldier reflexes. She probably would've broken a lot of things without them, like her phone, and her glasses, and this cute, innocent cup. 

Immediately her hand came up to tangle in his hair, his smooth dark hair, and Bucky tilted his head to the left, making her gasp as his tongue traced the seam of her lips. The one thing Darcy knew was 100% old Bucky Barnes was the way that he kissed. Confident, experienced kissing that maybe two of her other partners had ever been able to pull off. Bucky was amazing at kissing, and it kept blowing her mind. 

When Darcy pulled back to gasp for air, Bucky smiled, all wet, red lips. 

"I have to go shower now," he said very seriously, and dropped his hands from where they'd been cupping her cheeks, taking a step back. She sat there, trying to gather her breath, when he shot her a smirk and walked towards the elevators. 

"Tease!" she gasped, and he winked at her before he disappeared. She collapsed onto the kitchen counter, and groaned. "Jarvis, remind me not to play with the fire that is James Buchanan Barnes."

"If you wished to escape the relationship you have with Sergeant Barnes, you wouldn't ask me to remind you," Jarvis said, and Darcy snorted. "But if you would like, Sir has his own collection of 'thank you now please leave me' cards that he used to send to his one night stands."

"Oh god," Darcy groaned. "No, thanks Jay. Was Tony that horrible before Steve came along?"

"Sir has always been lacking in tact, but I don't believe him to have ever been horrible."

"Horribly sad, maybe?" Darcy asked, quirking an eyebrow up at the roof. Jarvis silence was a silent agreement, and she sighed. "Yeah. I'm glad he has Steve too."

\---

Less than an hour after Damian left, there was a knock on Emma's door. She was reading To Kill A Mockingbird for her English class, and she held a finger up as she skimmed the last paragraph. When she looked up, it was to her parents smiling fondly at her and Tony, Thor, Bucky, Steve. Everyone except for Bruce. She immediately grew suspicious. 

"Oh no. What're you gonna do?" she asked slowly, and Natasha leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. Emma gave it to her, never one to deny affection.

"We're just here to visit you," Tony said with a brilliant smile. 

"And beat the snot out of Ralph," Bucky said, and all the adults turned to him with a withering look. He raised an eyebrow in turn, and Emma's eyes widened. 

"He's still alive?" she asked, her fingers clenching around the pages of the worn book. It was one of Natasha's copies, not the one that the school had allowed her to borrow, because that thing was icky, and this one was old and used. Not one of Natasha's favorites, but one of the first books Clint had made her read in English after she'd gone good side. 

"I'm not allowed to kill him," Bucky said, and all the Avengers sighed.

"As much as we'd all love to, we can't kill him," Natasha amended. "He's going to prison. No doubt. We just wanted to give him a... good send-off."

"Fuck, I am lucky to have you guys," Emma laughed a little breathlessly. "Aw, I love you all. Group hug. C'mere."

"Making demands again, princess?" Tony laughed, as they all crowded a little precariously around her hospital bed in a wonky version of a hug. Emma laughed from Thor's arms, reaching back to pat Steve on the head.

"Yes, my loyal subjects. I'll let you go kick ass now," she promised, kissing Clint on the forehead and squeezing Bucky's hand. 

They all untangled themselves, and Tony squeezed her hand before he dragged Steve out of the room, Bucky and Thor trailing behind. Only Natasha and Clint remained, and the smile on Emma's face fell. 

"Oh god. You have your serious faces on. What's happened? Is everyone okay?" Emma asked quickly, and Natasha ran a hand through her hair soothingly. 

"Everyone is fine, возлюбленный," she promised.

"As fine as you can be with our jobs," Clint shrugged, and the two agents exchanged a look. "But uh. We know that you are not fine. And we'd like to talk about that. We think you should see a therapist."

"What?" Emma asked, looking stricken. "No, I'm fine. I don't need to see a therapist." 

"Sweetheart, we tell ourselves that lie a lot. We know when you're not fine. You went through a lot of traumatic stuff really recently, not to mention your past experiences in general, and we'd really like for you to see a therapist," Clint said softly.

"I said I'm fine!" Emma exclaimed.

"You hid a piece of metal underneath your skin for over four years 'in case you needed it'," Clint pointed out, biting his lip as he took hold of her hand. "That's not being okay. And that's coming from me. I'm like, the epitome of not okay."

Emma glanced between her two parents, trying to find a loophole. 

"Why don't you want to go to a therapist, Emma?" Natasha asked as she sat down on the bed. Emma immediately averted her eyes, fiddling with the hospital bracelet around her wrist. 

"I just. I don't like when people poke around in my brain," she muttered reluctantly. "I've had enough of that."

"Therapy can really help with things," Natasha admitted. "It's helped me."

"You've had therapy?" Emma asked, looking surprised, as if Natasha wasn't one of the most fucked up people on this planet. Natasha laughed softly. 

"I've had my fair share of therapy, yeah. So has Clint."

"Hell yeah," Clint scoffed. "You need to pass psych evals a lot to get back into the field after a traumatic mission."

"Aren't all missions a bit traumatic?" Emma asked, and Clint puffed his cheeks up. 

"Yes," Natasha replied in his stead. "But very few of them involve as much past trauma as yours did."

"Please Em," Clint said softly, and Emma bit her lip, her eyebrows furrowing a little in thought. 

"Can I have a trial run?" she asked carefully, and Natasha nodded, feeling something that had been tightly coiled in her chest release her lungs. She took a deep breath. 

"Of course. If you hate it, we'll figure something else out," she promised, and Emma nodded, closing her eyes and falling back against the pillow. 

"You guys were here about kicking ass?" she then said, motioning towards the door. Clint kissed her forehead. 

"We were," Clint smiled, and Emma waved at them a little as if to shoo them off. She was picking up on Charlotte's motions, learing how to get even Hill moving. They waved their goodbye's and followed the others towards the elevators. 

The soft, happy atmosphere that had been in Emma's room quickly dissipated as they crowded into the elevator together. Clint slid his keycard in one of the slots and punched in his code, and pressed one of the buttons. 

"Man, the security here is shit. I could hack all of this. Bucky could hack this if he tried," Tony said into the tense air as the elevator started descending. 

"Don't you hack your way in here all the time?" Bucky asked distantly, flexing the fingers on his metal arm uneasily.

"I would never say that on tape," Tony scoffed, waving towards the ceiling of the elevator, and the probable cameras there. 

"You just said that you could hack it," Clint pointed out. 

"But I didn't use the same words that our pal Buck did," Tony said, looking proud for not saying anything that could be used against him. Natasha sighed and wondered why she associated with these people.

Finally the doors opened, and they walked out into a blue hallway. Clint lead the way to the interrogation rooms, a few turns down another hallway. Coulson was standing outside, tapping away on a tablet and looking a little like a stressed out Pepper but without the wrinkled eyebrows. 

"Agent!" Stark called happily.

"Son of Coul," Thor greeted solemnly, and his two agents nodded at him. He nodded back at Captain America, and nodded at the Winter Soldier as well. The Winter Soldier's lips twitched into a small scowl, but he nodded back. 

"Avengers," he sighed. Not a sigh of exasperation, only fatigue. The evidence on this guy was so obvious that having to run it through checks was just exhausting and useless. Shrugging the work off on another agent hadn't even crossed his mind. His agents' child was still in some way his responsibility, and Clint and Natasha were more than just colleagues. 

"Hi Phil," Natasha said kindly, and smiled that smile that made so many fear her. "Is he in there?"

"He is. I just have one quick question before you all go in: how much of Coble should I be expecting to get back?" Coulson asked calmly. The assembled six exchanged looks. 

"Not a lot, Agent," Tony replied smoothly, and Coulson accepted that with grace, stepping aside. Natasha slid her card through the reader with a calming breath, reminding herself not to lose control. 

The room was the classic standard interrogation room for Shield, plain walls, a table and two chairs. No two-sided mirror to look through, no visible cameras. Only one light in the ceiling, illuminating the small cube with stark, sterile light. 

And in one of the chairs, wrapped up like a present, was Ralph Coble.

Natasha had despised many people, but the pure hatred that she had to swallow down as she looked at him took her by surprise. She hadn't hated this passionately since she was with the KGB. The looks on her teammates' faces were equally hateful, and Ralph squinted at them through one black eye, licking a cut by his lip. 

"Well well well," he crooned, and leaned his head a little to the side. "The mighty Avengers. Here for little old me?"

"You thought we were done with you?" Steve said in a way that was surprisingly frightening, because holy crap, Captain America has probably gone darkside with the way that he's standing right now, looking like the purification of composed anger and scathing. Tony thought it was as hot as it was terrifying.

"Cute," Bucky snapped at him, and Ralph smiled a smile that tugged at the cut in his lip, a smile that made Natasha have to cross her arms casually to not strangle him then and there. She was already mapping out what she wanted to do to him in her head, the ways she wanted to hurt him.

Ralph laughed quietly, breaking off into a cough. Blood passed his lips, and he spat on the floor next to him, grinning wide when he looked back up. Blood was stuck on his teeth, and Clint had a brief flashback to Emma's bloodstained teeth. He made her do that, made her have all the nightmares she'd told him about. His hands clenched painfully. 

"How's Emma?" Ralph asked with mirth, and was rewarded with a punch in the face before anyone could see it coming. Bucky was swift, and punched with his metal hand, relishing in the way Ralph's head lolled back before Steve was reeling him back in again. Ralph let his head hang for a moment, and then slowly lifted it back up. "You pack a good hook. I could make something useful out of you."

This time, it was Steve who was on him, delivering quite the angry blow to the sternum in a way that punched all the air out of his lungs. 

"Don't you dare say that," Steve breathed harshly, grabbing Ralph's tattered shirt by the shoulder. "Ever."

Ralph wheezed a laugh. 

"Captain Sensitive much?"

"You know what we can make out of you?" Clint asked calmly, slowly walking around the chair. "Pulp."

"Snappy," Ralph smiled lazily. "As you can see, I'm all yours." He waved the Shield issued handcuffs around a little. They were triggered to taze the perp if things got heated, and Ralph probably knew that. 

"Oh we see," Natasha said, suddenly feeling like the cat that got the cream as she sauntered over to wrench his head back. 

"Now, personally, we all want you dead. Really, really, _really_ dead. Like, in-separate-pieces-scattered-over-the-world dead. But," Tony said as he tapped his fingers against the wall he was leaning against, "we're here under the guise of getting information from you. So maybe we can start with why you decided that suddenly you wanted to create small deadly children?"

"And how do you think you'll get that out of me? I'm more experienced with... What you might call persuasive tactics, than any of you," Ralph said smugly, smirking up at Natasha. She kept her face neutral now, watched as Clint did the same when Steve backed up a little, crossing his arms imposingly. 

"Did you ever hear of the Russian Red Room?" Bucky asked thoughtfully, his face blank. Ralph raised an eyebrow, and glanced up at Natasha. He looked her up and down, and Clint clenched his jaw dangerously. 

"Impressive work, I must say. I give it maybe an eight out of ten."

" **Did he just call me an 'it'?** " Natasha said in Russian, and Bucky hummed. 

" **Do you want to slit his throat, or should I?** " he asked. Natasha smiled at Ralph. 

"I'll do it. Later."

"I wanna do it now," Bucky said, tapping his metallic fingers against his other arm. 

"Patience. We've got time," Natasha said with a flirty smile his way. Bucky's lips twisted into a mockery of a smile, brash and angry and pleased all wrapped up in one. 

"Oh boy do we have time," Tony said with a brilliant smile. 

\---

"Why's it always gonna be about an upcoming war?" Clint groaned as he watched Natasha wrap his bruised knuckles.

"All the lunatics think there's an upcoming war, and they're ready to start it," Natasha sighed, feeling much, much better now. From the relaxed way Bucky was lounging in the plastic chair in the medical ward, he seemed to feel the same. His flesh hand's knuckles were bedazzeled with flowery band-aids, and Tony had removed a plate on his left arm to fiddle around with the mechanisms, muttering as he went. 

"Ralph just seemed... Off to me," Steve said slowly.

"If you mean sadistically batshit, then yeah, I agree," Bucky shot off, his metal fingers twitching as Tony tightened a screw.

"Too tight?" Tony asked distantly, and Bucky muttered his agreement.

"The scum has been dealt with," Thor said proudly. 

"Mangled mess, that's what you turned him into," Coulson said as he slipped in through the door. 

"Not even sorry," Clint said as he flexed his fingers against the wrappings. He dared entangle his fingers with Natasha's, watching how their bandages shifted together and her pale fingers stroking lightly against his skin. 

"None of us are," Tony piped up as he stuffed the tiny screwdriver he had with him into his pocket again, sliding the plate back into it's right place. 

"We're having him transferred to a Shield prison. You'll never see him again, hopefully," Coulson said calmly.

"Thank you for fixing this so quickly," Natasha said quietly, and Phil offered her a small smile.

"It's my job."

"I know what your job is, Coulson," she retorted. "This isn't it. Thank you." Phil sighed quietly. 

"You're welcome."

"I'll get you a cool new tie for this," Clint promised. 

"Please, dear god, no more," Coulson breathed under his breath, and Natasha smiled as Clint laughed out loud. 

"You love the ties," he said with a grin. Coulson stopped himself from rolling his eyes, and walked out of the room again, wondering how he could manage to lose another one of Clint's horrible ties in a traumatic accident. 

\---

The entire month of January passed, and Emma's powers were no closer to returning. It was starting to worry them all when she wasn't healing any faster than any other normal human would. Almost two weeks into February, and even Tony was starting to worry. Even though nobody really told Emma, she could sense the tension. Her cast was itchy, she was bored of sitting in a bed all day, and now they'd gotten her a backbrace as her vertebrae healed correctly. All she could do was think. And do schoolwork, whenever her daily Avengers watcher brought it with them. 

Right now she was attacking geometry with Bucky at her side, doing anything but actual geometry. 

"What if my powers never come back?" Emma asked worriedly and tapped her pencil against her notebook.

"They'll be back," Bucky assured her as he tipped his head back.. 

"But how do we really _know_ that, Bucky? They could be completely out of my system. Maybe Ralph scrambled my brains so hard that my powers are gone forever!"

"Would you want that?" Emma stared at him, wide-eyed. 

"I... I don't know. I mean-" She cut herself off, and looked down at her hands. This surely caught his attention, and he leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbow on the bed and his chin in his hand. "I got them because he wanted me to kill people with it. And I don't want to kill people."

"So it's my arm." Emma looked up at him from under her furrowed eyebrows. He furrowed his eyebrows in retaliation."It's a weapon. It was given to me so that I could kill efficiently."

"But you don't use it to kill anymore," Emma remarked stubbornly, grabbing said hand and tugging it into her lap. He nodded in agreement. 

"Your powers are the weapon you choose to make them," he said, and Emma laughed quietly. 

"You sound so wise."

"I'm old. Old people are supposed to be wise." Emma laughed again, louder this time. 

"Smartass. Do you know what date it is tomorrow?" 

"Fourteenth?"

"Exactly!" At Bucky's mildly bewildered look, Emma's eyes widened. "Dude. Valentines day! What're you and Darcy gonna do?"

"Valentines day?" Bucky said carefully. 

"Oh. Oh Bucky. Valentines day. The day where you're supposed to clean up nice and eat someplace nice and be all in love and kiss and give roses and stuff. Valentines day!" Emma exclaimed. At Bucky's now mildly horrified expression, she sighed softly. "Oh man, are you gonna be in deep shit if you don't do anything for Darcy."

"We're babysitting Peter with Bruce tomorrow," he shrugged. 

"Babysitting? _James_."

"What's with the James-ing?"

"Dude, you can't _babysit_ on valentines. That cannot be a thing. Take her out on a picnic."

"It's cold outside," Bucky pointed out. 

"Get her a necklace or something. Jewelry. Girls like that. Maybe sparr with her." Bucky raised an eyebrow. "That seems more like a Darcy thing, honestly. Though the jewelry thing. Do that. Actually, go buy it now!"

"I want to stay with you," Bucky said, jaw clenching firmly. Emma smiled at him. 

"I know you do man, but you have a girlfriend too. Don't you like Darcy?"

"Yes," Bucky said, eyes going a little distant. "I do." The room was silent for a beat. 

"Do you love her?" Emma asked quietly, and Bucky blinked. 

"I don't know. I don't remember what that feels like," he admitted, clenching his real hand. Emma grabbed it and smoothed it open again, entangling their fingers. 

"Does she make you happy?" she inquired. Bucky nodded carefully, brushing a strand of his hair back over his ears that had slipped from his pony tail. "Do you like being with her?"

"She's great," Bucky affirmed, a small smile crossing over his lips as his thoughts seemed to trail to Darcy. Emma grinned. 

"Does she make you feel at peace? Less itchy?" Emma asked, hoping that he would understand her vague wave at his mental state. 

"Darcy doesn't make me feel like I want to run," he said, looking up to meet Emma's eyes. "She's just... Calming. Somehow. She makes me feel like I'm better than I am."

"I think you've caught the lovebug, pal," Emma said, patting his hand affectionately. "It's nice. I like Darcy. You two seem good together."

"We... We feel good together," Bucky said, eyebrows furrowing as he thought it through. "We feel really good together." Emma smiled at him, and watched as his look turned inward. She managed to figure out two problems before Bucky spoke up again. "I'm in love with Darcy."

"Yes, you are," Emma confirmed, not even looking up as she moved onto the next one. 

"How?"

"I don't know. Sometimes you just fall in love. Can't stop it," she shrugged. Bucky huffed angrily. "Don't diss love. Love is great. Speaking of, gifts. Go. Now. Show your love."

"But I want to stay with you," Bucky said again. Emma thought hard for a moment. 

"Alright, here's the game plan. You go home, get one of those Starkphones that Tony has lying around, and you ask anybody but Tony or Darcy to vidcall me from it."

"Why not Stark?" Bucky asked suspiciously. 

"Because Tony will take over, because he's a kind and overly loving person. We don't want that right now. Any other time, and yeah, that might've been great, but we want this to be from the heart. Now, you'll vidcall me, and you can go with me safely with you, without me moving from this bed. Problem solved!" 

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked slowly. 

"I haven't seen the outside in over a month, please dear god take me to the mall," Emma pleaded, grabbing Bucky's hands and placing them on her cheeks. Bucky looked unsure for another few seconds, and when Emma was just about to pout, he huffed out a breath. 

"Fine."

"Yay! Go, you big guard dog, go!" Emma got a light kiss on the forehead, and then he was out the door. Emma picked her phone up just as Charlotte came in with a pair of scissors and a few other things, frowning a little. 

"Time to look at those stitches of yours, honey," she sighed, and Emma groaned. 

"Right now?"

"Right now. C'mon, let's see 'em." Emma groaned loudly, but gingerly lifted her hospital gown to show her hip. Charlotte clicked her tongue as she peeled the bandage off. "What've you been doing? Having nightmares?"

"No," Emma said defiantly. "I stopped twitching in my sleep like a week ago. Leave me alone."

"Just like your daddy," Charlotte sighed through her nose as she began cleaning the stitches, and Emma felt a weird sense of pride surge through her.

Over the month and a half that she'd been in the shield medical ward, a couple of Clint and Natasha's agent friends had passed by, taken one look at her, and remarked their likeness. When they talked to her, more similarities were revealed to them, ones Emma hadn't even noticed, and she took immense pleasure in thinking that she was anything like her heroic parents. 

"Alright, try not to jostle these again," Charlotte said as she replaced the bandage over the six neat stitches in Emma's side.

"Yeah yeah," Emma sighed woefully, and lit up when she saw an unidentified number vidcalling her. "I gotta take this."

"Kids and their phones these days," Charlotte said with a roll of her eyes as she disappeared, and Emma smirked at her back. 

\---

Bucky and Emma picked out a nice necklace together over the phone, a golden chain with a small heart pendant. The salesman called it a classic, and Bucky let Emma talk him into buying it. He gave it to Darcy the next day, and received an awed smile and Darcy beaming as they played around with Peter and hung out with Bruce.

Steve and Tony had decided to go to one of their favorite small places around town, but wouldn't tell anyone exactly where, as if it was their secret hiding spot.

And Clint had fixed himself and Natasha up at a nice restaurant, per Emma's demand. He was going to do it anyways, probably, seeing as he and Natasha had been officially 'together' for over four months now. He wanted to do something nice, not just their ordinary, relaxed take-out on the couch routine. 

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Natasha asked as she fanned the take-out menues out on their coffee table. Clint hummed. 

"You in a dress." Natasha looked up at him, a mildly confused look on her face.

"Oh?" she said, looking interested. Clint nodded and took a few steps out from his room. 

"How about you make yourself prettier, and I'll take you out tonight?" he said, biting his lip. Natasha's eyebrows rose. 

"What's the occasion?"

"It's Valentines day, Nat." Understanding hit her, and Clint laughed. "You forgot?"

"To be fair, life has been messy lately," Natasha smirked, standing up from the couch to walk over to him. He placed his hands on her hips when she came close enough, and her hands rested on his chest. 

"You're right." Her smooth, warm lips brushed by his for a mere second, and then she was pulling back. 

"Give me fifteen minutes, Barton," she called as she made her way over to her room. "You better look good when I get back." 

"Don't I always?" Natasha stopped in her doorway, and tossed him a hot look. 

"You do," she purred, and Clint smiled in return.

\---

Emma had woken up like any other day for the past month: parched, feeling stiff and sore, and mildly interested in puking as she rolled over in bed. A warm hand was placed on her shoulder, and she groaned. 

"What time is it?" she croaked. 

"Well past eleven," a familiar voice answered, and Emma cracked an eye open to blearily stare at an equally familiar bush of black hair. She closed her eyes and sighed as she stretched a little, minding all the healing wounds on her body. 

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" she asked sleepily. 

"It's Sunday, Barton," Damian said blankly, and Emma yawned, opening both eyes this time. 

"I have no idea what space or time is anymore, man. I just sleep when it's dark and stay awake when it's bright out. That's about it," she said as she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "How long have you been here?"

"Half an hour, give or take."

"You've just been staring at me as I slept?" Emma laughed as she reached for the glass of water Charlotte no doubt had left by her bedside, the wonderful, amazing woman. Emma drank half of it in one gulp, felt Damian's piercing blue eyes on her as she did. 

"No," Damian replied, his tone indicating the opposite. 

"That's kinda creepy, dude," she remarked as she put her glass back down, and took her first real good look at him. 

Damian's hair was windswept, his button up as pristinely ironed as usual, and he was wearing black slacks. His wrist was wrapped, as if he'd sprained it, and he had a gift bag at his feet. 

"You look nice today. Got a board meeting?" Emma teased. Damian's lips quirked. 

"No."

"Then what's with the fancy get-up? A gala?"

"No."

"A fundraiser?"

"No."

"Associates meeting?" she smirked as she looked over at him. Damian shook his head. "Then what?"

"It's valentines day," he said.

"Who's your Valentine?" Emma asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Damian cleared his throat.

"I was going to ask you," Damian said calmly, but the way that his eyes didn't meet hers was proof of how nervous that sentence made him. Emma gaped a little.

"You want me to be your Valentine? I'm not gonna be much fun, seeing as I'm on bed rest. If I even try to move without Charlotte's help, she'll make like wood and catch fire," Emma pointed out, her breathing quickening. After she was out of critical condition, she had argued her way out of the heart monitor, and now it could no longer betray her feelings.  
Of course, seeing as Damian was Damian, he didn't need a heartbeat monitor to tell him when her heart sped up.

"You're much more fun that any of the other girls I know." Emma blushed, and laughed.

"Um, thanks."

"So you'll 'be my Valentine'?" Emma could hear the airquotes around the words, and she laughed.

"Yes. I'll be your Valentine," she beamed, and Damian made a sort of confirming noise. He lifted the gift bag off the floor and placed it in her lap. It wasn't heavy, but it was pretty big, and Emma raised an eyebrow at him. "What's this?"

"Cards are for losers," Damian announced, and Emma grinned. 

"Depends, really funny cards can be enjoyable," she remarked as she opened the bag.

On the top, lay a box of chocolates, the expensive kind, and Emma whistled as she plucked it out of the bag. Under that, came two packs of colorful nerds, and Emma gasped in delight. Next came the striped hoodie she'd wanted, and she grinned at him as he stood there with a little smirk. And last, but not least, two tubs of her favorite ice cream and the new Star Wars movie on dvd.

"You beautiful, gorgeous, amazing person," Emma exclaimed, and grabbed his face to kiss his cheek, cradling her treasures in her arms. "I have a laptop under the bed somewhere. Get it and I'll let you watch Star Wars and eat ice cream with me."

"You're going to share your ice cream? This is a historical event," Damian snarked as he grabbed her computer from the floor and placed it in her lap. She wrangled the hoodie over her shoulders, enjoying the way it still smelled like him, and snorted.

"You know, that's not helping your chances at getting ice cream at all," she pointed out, and he smirked as he crawled up on the bed next to her. She pressed the dvd in, and Damian produced a spoon out of nowhere, handed it to her. "Best first Valentines day ever."

\---


	65. Panic And Teasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look I've been writing this trash for over a year now! That's insane. God, I need to wrap this up! Goddamn. This is also a short and messy chapter, because, yet again, I'm a mess. Yay for that.  
> Enjoy! <3 love you and all your commenting and kudosing!

 

Three days after Valentines day, and Emma woke up to loud conversations outside of her room, and people running around. She sat up in bed, and called out for Charlotte, only to hear a

"Hang on, hun," back.

Which was extremely strange. Charlotte wasn't giving into her every whim, but she was usually always there to make sure Emma was okay. She'd come to rely on the small, old woman during her long stay at Shield Medical. 

With a confused huff, Emma swung her legs over the edge of her bed, hissing as her injured ribs moved. She was used to pain, but this wasn't the sharp hot ache of a newly received injury; this was the pain of healing bones desperately trying to knit themselves back together. She took a few steadying breaths and grabbed at the iron hanger that held her IV, using it as a kind of cane to lean her weight on as she hobbled towards her door. 

Emma opened it, and was met with chaos.

The whole ward was filled with bodies, bloody nurses running around and barking orders as wounded people were tended to and shuffled into rooms. Emma stared, mouth open, until Hill saw her, and immediately marched over to her. Her eyes were sad as she firmly led Emma back into her room. 

"What's going on? What happened?" Emma asked as Maria managed to wrangle her back into her bed. 

"There's been an attack," Maria said calmly.

"Aliens?" Emma asked, almost yawning. Aliens were pretty basic by now. Maria looked mildly pained, and Emma felt a sense of unease wash over her. From what little she'd gathered in their snippets of conversation, Maria Hill wasn't one to show unnecessary emotion.

"No. Old enemies probably," she said. 

"Where did they attack? Did the Avengers get them?" Emma asked eagerly, and Hill had that pained expression on her face for a mere moment again.

"Director Fury will be here in a few moments to answer your questions," she replied, and turned to leave the room. Emma wrinkled her eyebrows. 

"What? Why can't you just tell me? Maria!" The door closed, and Emma grabbed Damian's hoodie from the chair next to her as a sudden cold shudder overtook her. She distantly wondered how pissed Charlotte would be if Emma stopped wearing the hospital gowns in favor of her own clothes again. Maybe she could sleep in Natasha's shirts. That'd be lovely. She loved Natasha's shirts. 

The door opened, and this time, Director Fury came in. He was in his normal black leather coat, but he had a chagrined look on his face that didn't match his usual mildly annoyed complexion. Emma raised an eyebrow. 

"Um, hi?" Emma said carefully. "What's going on? Hill wouldn't tell me anything."

Fury sighed tiredly and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he seemed to try and gather his thoughts.

"There was a bombing, early this morning. Other dimension tech that we've never seen before that set off a silent charge. We're working on finding out who did it," he told her.

"Where was the bombing?" Emma asked, a growing sickness in her stomach. Fury paused, looked into her eyes with his one, and sighed. 

"The Avengers Tower." Emma's hands immediately grasped the sheets. 

"No," she breathed. 

"The other dimension tech disintegrated the building within seconds," he told her woefully. "There were no survivors found in the rubble. These people out here are the ones who were in the surrounding streets." 

"No," Emma said, louder now, as panic made her fingers start twitching. "That's not possible! I would've heard it."

"The windows here are six inch thick. We didn't hear about it either, we just saw it. I'm sorry to have to inform you that the Avengers are dead," Fury said lowly, and Emma's breaths turned frantic.

"You're lying," she gasped. "You're lying to me. They wouldn't die from that. They can't!" Out of the corner of his eye, Fury saw a huge crack form in the window. 

"I'm sorry," he said darkly, and Emma shook her head viciously.

"No!" she yelled as tears burned hot on her cheeks. "They're not dead! They're not! They can't-" She had to stop for a second to sob. Her head was spinning as she felt the overwhelming urge to puke, and scream, and sob again. "They can't be dead." 

"I'm sorry," he repeated, and Emma's sobs escalated in volume. 

"No!" she screamed, and the crack in the window exploded as the windows of all the screens in her room shattered. Glass flew everywhere as Emma collapsed into a heap of tears, and Fury was thrown back against the wall with the shockwave of her powers being unleashed.

As Emma cried and screamed, Fury blearily heard more windows exploding, and then he collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the ground. The only sound that could be heard in the room was the howling of the winter winds and Emma's heaving sobs as they wracked her small frame.

\---

Clint woke up pleasantly warm and happy three days after Valentines day. Natasha was curled up behind him, their fingers entangled on his chest, and her cold feet pressing into his thighs to keep them warm. He kissed their hands without opening his eyes, and felt the vibrations of Natasha's hum in return. For a few moments, he was pleased to just stay in the silence and the darkness of his room, with Natasha curled against him, feeling safe and warm. 

They were going to see Emma today. They did that practically every day, and it pained him to see his little girl so beaten up, but she was getting better. The stitches in her side had been taken out yesterday, and the stitches on her head had been removed long ago. Every day she grew more and more restless, and if her vertebrae didn't heal soon so that she could go home, she'd probably burn the place down. Clint really loved their daughter. 

The thought was so pleasant that it made his chest feel warm and when Natasha disentangled their fingers to form a fist, and then stick out her pinkie, pointer finger and thumb and pressed the hand to his heart, he just had to grin. 

"Aw, I love you too Nat," he murmured happily and was urged to turn around. Natasha's red hair was barely visible against the dark of his covers, but he could feel the softness of it when his hand came up to cradle her cheek. He could feel her morning breath against his cheek, and he ignored it in favor of kissing her softly. Natasha's lips vibrated against his in a probably mildly disgusted groan, so he made it a peck, and smiled sweetly at her. Natasha brought her hand up inbetween them. 

" **Morning breath** ," she signed accusingly, and Clint just grinned, pleased that he knew his partner as well as he did. 

"Sorry Nat. Couldn't resist." He felt her amused huff of breath against his cheek, and curled his arm around her waist to bring her into his arms. His hand stroked lovingly over her back, and a sense of belonging washed over him that made him feel achingly aware of just how much he loved this woman and how stupid it was going to make him.

Suddenly a screen appeared on Clint's wall, and Natasha was sitting up in a second, her tense shoulders telling him that Jarvis was talking. A text appeared on the screen.

 _There has been a disturbance at SHIELD. Seven floors have gotten their technology and six inch thick glass windows broken. All seem to have shattered from the inside._  

"Hand me my hearing aids," Clint muttered. "What does this have to do with us?"

Natasha handed him his hearing aids just as another strip of text appeared on the screen. 

_The floor in the middle of the seven damaged ones, is SHIELD Medical._

"Oh shit," he said as he put his hearing aids in and turned them on, just in time to hear Natasha finish her string of curses. "Jarvis, get the other Avengers out of bed and ready in civvies, we're leaving in five minutes, max."

Natasha threw herself out of bed as her heart beat hard in her chest, and Clint followed her quickly, throwing on a pair of ratty jeans from the floor and a t-shirt as fast as Natasha hopped into her own jeans and threw on a long sleeve, grabbing socks and throwing them to him as he threw her jacket to her. 

All in all, they were ready to go in two minutes, and decided to spend the few minutes they had to spare to make coffee on the common floor. When Steve arrived with a massive bedhead and a sleepy Tony, they wordlessly caffeinated the two.

"Who's watching Peter?" Clint asked. 

"We shot off a message to Jane," Steve replied as he smoothed his hair down, and Tony poured his second cup of coffee down his throat. Bucky dropped down from the vent in the ceiling, fully dressed and rearing to go, and slid off the counter, only to be stopped by Steve. 

"We leave in a minute," he promised at Bucky's wild look. "Thor and Bruce need to get here." At that moment, the elevator doors opened, and Bruce stood there with a travelers cup of tea, just handing Thor a box of Poptarts from seemingly nowhere.

"Can we leave now?" Bucky snapped, all fidgety anxiety and restless nerves. Steve didn't answer, only moving into the elevator to crowd next to Thor in their broad-shoulderedness. 

The Avengers separated to hop into two different cars, and sped off towards the huge building. When they arrived, they saw the glass on the streets, the confused pedestrians, the cracked windows on the building facing Shield, as if someone had punched a huge fist against it, and cracked all the glass in a fit of rage. 

They were about to take the elevator up, only to find it out of order. Tony used one of his machines to check the elevator shaft, and whistled. 

"The elevator is a mangled mess," he told them. "Whatever hit Shield, hit 'em hard. Almost like a shockwave."

"With Emma in the middle of it," Bruce observed.

"What could make Emma lose control of her powers like that when they've been AWOL for months?" Tony asked as they began trudging up the stairs. 

After sixteen flights of stairs, Tony and Bruce were the only exhausted ones, because none of them had superhuman or demigodly stamina to back them up, but they arrived at Shield medical bay, only to see it completely wrecked. Coulson stood next to Hill in front of the shattered glass doors, and Clint's heart beat uncomfortably in his chest as he watched them whisper to each other.

"Agent!" Tony gasped as he leaned against Steve for support as he caught his breath, and Coulson turned around, a blank look on his face. 

"Avengers. We expected you to be arriving," he said calmly. 

"What the hell happened here?" Bucky asked as his boots crunched over the glass on the floor. 

"Emma happened," Fury said as he appeared from a doorway that wasn't Emma's. 

"What?" Steve asked, looking and sounding surprised. "How did she do all of this?"

"We convinced her that you were all dead, in hopes of getting her powers to come back. It worked, maybe a little better than we were expecting." The stunned silence that followed was broken after only a few seconds

"What the _fuck_ ," Bucky snarled, and looked like he was about to jump Fury and kill him with his own hands, when Natasha's hand slapped to his chest to stop him.

"I'm sorry, let me get this straight. You staged our _deaths_ to _startle_ our kid's powers into gear? Without _consulting_ us?" Clint said, his voice deadly calm, and Fury raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Did you know about this?" He turned towards Coulson, who shook his head. 

"I had no idea, Agent Barton. I've been in briefing since two AM."

"You wanted her powers back," Fury said. He showed with a sweep of his hand the destruction in the ward. "They're back."

"That's cruel, even for you, Nick," Natasha remarked, keeping an edge in her voice. Fury looked around at all the broken screens and sighed. 

"I sure as shit didn't account for all this damage, if it makes you any happier," he said. 

"A teeny, tiny bit," Tony said, scowling at the director. Bucky flashed his teeth at the man dressed in black, who retreated with a swagger in his step that made Bucky almost go after him to beat him up, only to be stopped by Steve. 

"Let's go see Emma," he said, and after getting to punch a wall so hard that it rattled, Bucky was calm enough to join them. 

"возлюбленный?" Natasha said softly as she gently nudged Emma's door open. It was cold in the room, and Emma sat on the bed. 

Her leg was out of it's cast, and she was wrapped up in the hoodie she'd received three days prior, her shoulders shaking as she huddled against her knees. Her fingers kept twitching where they clenched around her legs. 

"Emma, honey?" Clint said softly, and Emma looked up, her eyes lifeless and tired. 

"Fucking this again," she sniffed, wiping her eyes. "I know you're not real. You can go away now." Clint's heart broke at the sad slump of her shoulders. 

"We're real, Em," Steve said, concerned look on his face. "We're not dead."

The laugh that came from Emma's throat was mildly panicked. 

"Oh no, you're not gonna fool me with that again. That wasn't any fun last time. Really not fun. Go away. Please." The last word came out as a whisper, and a sob wracked her body again. 

They all stood there in disbelief, until Bucky banged his hand against the wall, making a huge crack appear in it. 

"That don't look real to you?" he asked, and Emma laughed again, rocking on the bed. 

"If I can hear and see things that aren't there, shouldn't I be able to see a crack in the wall too?" she asked. "You're all dead. Even Peter." A fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes, and she curled back up into the hoodie. "I wonder if I'll keep seeing you. Sometimes I see all the blood although it's not there anymore. You're all gonna be bloodstains. I can't believe I lost you." She smiled at them all sadly. "I miss you all so much."

"You think we are mere visions?" Thor asked softly. Emma smiled self-deprecatingly. 

"It's not like you'd be my first visions." Thor nodded and reached a hand out. His hand was big and tanned, and Emma stared at it.

"Take my hand. Prove that we are visions." Emma stared up at him, and then at his hand. Her pale hand trembled as she reached out, and her small hand was dwarfed by his. The gasp that left her throat when Thor's fingers encircled her palm sounded more like someone had punctured her lung than her drawing breath, and it was seconds before Thor had an armful of Emma. 

She cried as she hugged them all, and kept crying as Bucky cradled her to his chest, with Clint stroking her back and Natasha murmuring soft Russian into her hair. Emma grabbed Bruce's shirt with one hand and Tony's with her other one. They all stood in a kind of circle around her until she finally stopped sobbing and just stood there breathing for a while. 

"I hate Fury," Bucky declared, and Emma shrugged as she cuddled into his chest. 

"He got me my powers back. Which means I can go back to school."

"You little nerd," Tony said affectionately, and the grin she cracked at him made everyone's hearts lighten 

"School's important," she said firmly, shooting Clint a look. He smiled and kissed her hand. 

"You're right," he said softly. "It is."

\---

They brought Emma right home, and Emma played with Peter and kissed and hugged Jane and Darcy, and kept touching any and all of them, as if reassuring herself that she wasn't imagining things anymore. Which was yet another thing that worried Clint. 

Thor was teaching Emma how to braid an asgardian braid on Bucky, and Natasha was standing by the kitchen island next to the worried archer as he draped one arm over her waist. 

"I wonder how pissed she'd be if we just... Wrapped her up in bubble wrap and put trackers in all of her shoes," he said thoughtfully, and Natasha snorted, linking her fingers with the ones resting on her hip. 

"Really pissed. We can't let this get away with us. We need to remain rational and calm. She'll be fine. The chance of her getting kidnapped again is slim."

"We thought there was a pretty slim chance that she'd be kidnapped in the first place," Clint pointed out as Emma's laughter rang out through the kitchen. Natasha's fingers squeezed his as they watched Thor pick Emma up like she was only a baby, and she squealed with laughter as he hauled her over his shoulder. 

"True," Natasha conceded. She thought for a while. "We could probably put trackers in all of her shoes without her noticing it."

"I think Stark has some really tiny ones we can stuff in them," Clint nodded and crowded against her back, wrapping his arms around her hips lightly. Natasha sighed softly as he rested his chin on her shoulder. 

"I've probably grown during all this sleeping. Does that mean we can get me new clothes now? I can't come in to school looking like a hobo. Oh my god, I get to shower on my own now, too!" Emma suddenly lit up as she curled her fingers into Bucky's hair, destroying the intricate braids there. "Oh my god. I'm so excited for that."

"You're weird," Bucky said affectionately, and Emma kissed his forehead. 

"So are you, weirdo. By the way, you're definitely going shopping with me. You could use a new couple of shirts."

"Because it's not like I own over seventeen different shirts."

"Seventeen is not nearly enough. Mom, tell him," Emma said, looking up from Bucky to look at Natasha. 

"I swear to God, sometimes we're raising two kids," Natasha murmured to Clint. Clint's heart fluttered at the thought of it. "You can't have just seventeen shirts James. That's not nearly enough for a guy of your caliber. You need tighter shirts."

"I like my shirts," Bucky said defensively. 

"Just go to the mall with them, don't fight it," Clint advised. 

"You're coming too," Emma and Natasha said at the same time, and then they shared a look. Emma burst into laughter, and Clint groaned, laying his forehead against Natasha's shoulder. 

"Don't make me go," he pleaded.

"Suck it up, Barton," Natasha murmured and ran her hands through his hair almost distantly, the way Emma was running her hands through Bucky's hair. There were many similarities between the two redheads, everyone had come to notice. Emma was like both of her parents in spirit, even though it wasn't through genetics. 

"I'd like to suck you up," Clint whispered in her ear, and Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "I meant that just as dirty as it came out." She chuckled quietly. 

"You're still coming to the mall with us, Hawkguy."

"You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"You've told me several times I am. No take-backsies," Natasha said as she slipped out of his arms. "Come on. Let's hit the mall. Here, возлюбленный, take these." Emma used Natasha for balance as she shoved her feet into her shoes, and Natasha handed Clint his jacket as Clint distantly watched Natasha stroke Emma's hair out of her face and even take her hand. 

Later, as they sat outside of one of the shops Emma was in with Bucky, Clint threw his arm over Natasha's shoulders and smiled at her.

"You're so maternal," he said softly, and Natasha narrowed her green eyes at him. 

"I doubt that," she said, and he squeezed her shoulder. 

"You're a great mom," Clint promised. "Emma would agree."

"You're a great dad," Natasha said firmly. "Emma loves you."

"She loves you too. You know that, right?" 

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "Surprisingly."

"Not surprising at all," Clint scoffed. "You're very lovable once you get to know you." Natasha's lips twitched into a small, genuine smile. 

"Says you."

"Says me, indeed," Clint smirked. "You know I love you too, right?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, her smile turning soft as her eyes flittered over his lips. "I know."

\---

Emma's return to school was the next day, on a Thursday. She came into her homeroom, and the piercing scream that left Layla's throat could've deafened a lesser woman. As it was, Emma braced her body as Layla threw herself onto her friend. During her month and a half at Shield, Emma had only been able to vidcall and text her friends, except for Damian of course.

Damian was currently suspiciously eyeing her leg and her in general as Layla dragged her over to her friendgroup. Hope hugged Emma tightly, along with TJ, who seemed to have grown even further since the last time she saw him. 

"You giant!" Emma laughed as she stood on her tippy toes to reach around his neck. 

"I'm not even that tall," TJ protested, and Emma turned to Damian to smirk.

"Barton," he drawled, that dangerously sharp look in his eye that Emma had decided to call his 'Wayne-boy look'. It was the one that all of his brothers gave her, the assessing one.

"Dami," she said happily and patted his cheeks. "Don't bother getting up for me."

"I didn't," he noted.

"Good."

"Fine." Emma heard Layla snap a pencil in half. 

"You-" Hope lay a hand to steady her, and the enraged blonde took a few breaths. "You two are going to kill me one day."

"I thought it was your growing crush on the meatheaded jock that was going to be your death one day," Damian remarked, and was immediately swatted on the shoulder. 

"Shut up," Layla blushed, and Emma grabbed his other shoulder, leaning down by his ear.

"Yeah, Damian," she said sweetly. "Shut up." 

This time she was pretty sure it was Hope who snapped her pencil in half. Which was impressive, considering it was a heavy duty plastic one. 

"Just kiss already," TJ groaned quietly. 

"How long are we gonna keep this up?" Emma whispered to Damian. 

"I like seeing them suffer," Damian replied lowly. "On the subject of suffering, last time I saw you, you were in a cast and having your spine re-settled."

"Healing powers, remember?" 

"I thought they'd been quite useless lately."

"Let's say that something sparked them back in motion."

"Do I want to know?" he asked suspiciously as she sat down in her spot next to him. 

"No," she answered, and his lips turned into a scowl. "Chill, dude. I'm good now." 

"Which implies that you weren't good during the three days since I saw you last."

"Just yesterday. I'm fine, really," Emma said dismissively. 

"I really don't-"

"Who are you to judge me for not being fine if I was lying, anyways? It's not like, oh say, sword slashes or head injuries," Emma said, perhaps a little sharper than usual, and Damian smoothed his features out into a neutral blank face. She knew she'd hit a nerve, but didn't look away from his blue eyes. 

"Alright guys, head out to your classes, let's go!" Mr. Fitz called from his desk, and everyone moved to leave. Her first class was specials with Damian, and they moved down the hallway together, until she noticed Damian staring at the books in her hands.

"I'm fine, Dami," Emma sighed as Damian reached towards her books. Emma dodged his grabby hands. "You don't have to carry my books for me. I'm stronger than you are. I'm also superpowered."

"You've been hospitalized for over a month and a half."

"I'm also _out_ of the hospital right now. Full recovery thanks to my healing abilities."

"Cheater," Damian scowled, and Emma smirked at him.

"You know it."

\---


	66. Marriage And Babysitting Round Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heave ho. Time jumps. I just feel like I need to make up for all the time I lost in January. Now we're getting back to normal.  
> Anyway, some fun stuff in this chap. I have like a zillion tests and things I gotta do, but I'll still try to get things up as often as I can.  
> Enjoy! <3

 

The next couple of weeks passed without incident. Which, of course, made everyone sure the next shoe was going to drop sometime. All through April, not a single alien invasion, no huge monsters, nothing that demanded the Avengers attention.

Except for the fact that Pepper and Happy announced their engagement, Tony planned a spectacularly beautiful and fantastic wedding in two weeks and had them wed on a tiny private beach in Hawaii, and Emma got to wear a beautiful dress and bathe in the salty ocean for the first time. Clint didn't consider himself a huge photographer guy, but when Emma first tasted the water and her eyes widened as she yelled that it was _salty_ , he'd busted his phone out for some prime photo ops. It still amazed him how little of the world she'd experienced.

He also managed to capture some photos of Natasha and Emma holding hands as they gazed out over the dark ocean, and damn security protocols, he was making it his lockscreen.

As soon as they got back to New York, Darcy began training jujitzu with Natasha when she wasn't in the lab with Jane, and Jane got her own workshop next to Bruce's, and Thor was just overjoyed that Jane was staying in town. 

Bucky and Darcy went out on three dates, and they all went spectacularly. Which, of course, made Bucky all the more paranoid. He found himself waking up before her, only to feel her warm body next to him underneath the covers, her warm hand closed around his or on his stomach. Reassuring him.

This was one of those occasions, where he woke up with a twitch, and immediately, Darcy's hand began stroking against his stomach, as if on instinct. He took a few breaths and stared up into the ceiling, biting down on the sudden complete dread that wanted to claim him. Darcy's sleepy strokes across his abs were soothing, gentle things, that made it a little easier to keep breathing slowly in, out, in, out.

Bucky thought about soothing things, like the way Natasha's hair looked in a messy bun, and the sound of Emma's laughter. Steve's hand in his as he dragged him up from the sparring mats, and Starks constant mumbling as he fixed with Bucky's arm. The sound of Banner sifting through his teas as he decided what kind he wanted, and Thor's soft voice whenever he spoke to Steve's and Stark's kid. Darcy's kisses. Calming things. Things that made his days feel a little more normal. 

He would've fallen back asleep, if it hadn't been for the change in Darcy's breathing. He listened as she took a deep breath, which turned into a quiet groan. 

"G'mornin'," she murmured into the crook of his neck, and despite himself, Bucky smiled. 

"Mornin'," he replied, and Darcy kissed his neck lovingly. Their relationship had racketed up a notch since Darcy had made him hold his hands on the wooden frame of his bed as she went down on him. It didn't backfire on her, Bucky managed to not splint it, and since then, he'd been cautious but enthusiastic in exploring her body. 

And holy moly, was he good at exploring. 

Darcy got herself dragged up on the warm super soldier body, and burrowed into his arms, naked legs tangling under the sheets. 

"Mm, you're really warm," she murmured approvingly, biting down on his collarbone to hear him suck in a breath. 

"Super soldier serum," he replied, kissing the dark tangle of curls spilling out over his chest. Her shampoo was fruity, and a scent he'd become accustomed to quite quickly. 

"Me likey," Darcy approved, shifting to look at the clock. "Oh hey, look. It's only eight this time. Look at you go, not waking up at five am. I'm hecka proud of you." She kissed his lips gently and rolled off him, into a seated position by the edge. 

"Getting up already?" he asked sleepily, watching her pale back move as she pulled her underwear on.

"Yup. Jane's got some fancy-schmancy presentation she needs to finish today so that she can present it at the conference in San Fransisco tomorrow, and Thor's pretty much helpless when it comes to getting her to pull away from it long enough to eat and stuff. Gotta go help the big guy out," she laughed gorgeously, and stood up to stretch. And that was when he saw them. A cold weight settled in his stomach.

The bruises.

Bruises littered her hips, imprints the size of his fingers, in green and yellow splotches that made Bucky nauseous just looking at. Immediately, he swung his legs over the bed, grabbing her by the waist and staring.

"I was going to get up," Darcy said with a light laugh. "But I'm all for second rounds, and in this case like, fifth rounds?"

"I hurt you," Bucky said, clenching his jaw in distress as his voice cracked a little. Darcy looked down over her shoulders, noticing the small marks on her skin. Honestly, she hadn't even felt them there, and she looked on with a mild satisfaction. She liked it, even if he didn't. 

"No, no, no," she said immediately, and spun around, sank down to straddle his hips. "James, baby, they don't even hurt. They're like love bites."

"I still hurt you," he said, keeping her gaze. She shook her head, and leaned her forehead against his. 

"No, no, no. Last night was... Amazing. I'm a very sexual creature, and you... You delivered. Holy crap did you deliver. Brought your best game. It was amazing. Now, when I look down at my hips, I'll be thinking about you, and this amazing night, and how we're going to repeat it. Many times. Many many times, if I get to decide."

He stared at her.

"But... The bruises."

"Yeah, but... I remember exactly when I got them." Her head had an amused tilt to it, and she pushed him back a little on the bed, getting him to lean on his elbows as she leaned with him, pushing her chest to his. He strangled a gasp. "I remember when you were holding onto me really tight, grinding into me just the way I love it..." She trailed off, fingers tracing the edge where his metallic arm attached to flesh, the spiderweb of ugly scars there. 

Darcy leaned down and kissed his lips softly. 

"I'd love to show you just how much I love these, but I seriously need to go and help Jane out. She'll turn into a frazzled mess if she doesn't finish today. And that'd be unfortunate, since she's my meal ticket," she pointed out, patting his firm chest. 

"Stark would let you stay even if Jane wasn't here." She plucked his shirt off the floor and slipped into it, tossing him a smile over her shoulder. 

"Debatable, but a sweet thought." 

"I wouldn't let him kick you out."

"That's sweet of you. Though, without Jane, I wouldn't even have gotten into this crazy world of yours," Darcy pointed out as she went over to the drawer in his bedroom that was all hers.

She'd taken over his closet too, her bag shoved somewhere into the back of it, and her clothes blended with his. He hadn't actually thought about that. When Natasha asked where Darcy was keeping her stuff and he'd replied with a hum and had left it at that, which had annoyed him a little. 

"But now you live with me," he said, almost shocked. "We've been together for a while now."

"Nine months, roughly," Darcy smiled, pulling a pair of sweat pants on. The sun was out and bright, melting the snow outside quickly, so soon she'd be wearing skirts without stockings underneath and Bucky would have to watch her thighs move as beautifully as they did without 'em. He wasn't sure he'd be able to contain himself. "Having second thoughts?"

The way she said it, a feigned air of nonchalance masking fear, it made Bucky's hand clench. 

"No."

"Not a single one?"

"No." Darcy shot him a grin as she swept her hair up into a ponytail, brushing some lingering strands out of her face. Bucky honestly contemplated just pulling her back into the bed just for that and the beautiful quirk of her lips, but he knew he'd regret it when she had to disappear even longer to salvage Jane. 

He almost distantly wondered if this was how Darcy felt when he was with Emma instead of her. Probably something like this.

"I'll see you later, babe," Darcy said, leaning down to give him one last kiss on the mouth. 

"Bye," he said quietly as she walked out of the room, and the door shut with a quiet click. He fell back down into the bed, staring at the roof and idly thinking about Pepper and Happy's wedding.

It had been a nice affair, really. He'd been stuffed into a suit and had to wear a tie which had been uncomfortable, but there weren't all that many people there, just some of Pepper's friends and Happy's boxer friends who had wanted to see his arm throw a punch. After he grabbed a palm tree out by the roots with it, suddenly they weren't really up for sparring matches anymore, and Darcy had stared at him with this kind of dazed amazement. 

He was glad Pepper had insisted on a smaller crowd than the one Tony suggested. Crowds made him jumpy nowadays. Too many people that could get lost in them. The nervous bride in question had been bedazzled in a very expensive and pretty wedding dress, and Tony had walked her down the aisle with the smile of a proud parent. He'd also cried a little, and cradled his child as Steve sobbed a little too. 

Darcy had clenched his metal hand and smiled, a little watery herself, and Bucky had looked at her and contemplated marrying her. 

Just out of pure curiosity. Nothing else. 

The door opened to his room, and Bucky immediately grasped one of the knives from the bedside table (Darcy didn't want any knives or guns in the bed anymore), and stood up, completely forgetting his vulnerable body. 

When Emma walked in, a hand shot up to cover her eyes. 

"Dude," she groaned. "Pants. Undies. Don't go Thor on me."

"I just woke up," Bucky said defensively, grabbing his sweatpants from the floor and a tanktop. The knife went back to it's place on the bedside table, and Emma gave him a squinty look before she fell down on his bed, burrowing her face into his pillow. It was Saturday, which meant she'd probably be heading out to meet with her friends soon. "What's the matter, doll?" 

"I'm tired of being really social," she told him, her voice muffled by the pillow. He sat down on the covers again, shoving at her shoulder to get her to scoot over. With a groan, Emma rolled over onto her back, and he lay down beside her.

"Me too," he said, throwing his arm over his eyes. Emma raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't seem to be feeling very against being social today. Usually that meant he answered her in clipped sentences and stared at the walls or the ceiling. No, this was more like him doing some deep thinking. 

"You're doing that thing where you go back in here," Emma said softly, poking the part of his forehead that wasn't covered by muscles. Bucky tensed up a little, and, yup, he was definitely doing some deep thinking. "C'mon. Are you gonna spill or am I gonna have to tip you over?"

Bucky was silent and tense as the seconds ticked by, and Emma was just about to give him another gentle nudge, when he sighed quietly and pulled his arm back from his face. 

"Pepper's wedding was nice," he said slowly, and Emma nodded, turning to look up at the ceiling just like he was doing. 

"Yeah, it was. I liked the ocean. I'd never seen it before. It was big and kinda scary. Did you know that they've only explored like 5 percent of the ocean? That's _nothing_. If I get married, I'm not gonna do it on Hawaii. I'm gonna marry somewhere nicer."

"People think Hawaii is nice."

"Maybe I'll marry in like Washington." That startled a chuckle out of him.

"The state?" he asked. Emma shrugged. 

"Why not? It's close."

"It's on the other side of the country, doll. Washington D.C. is kinda close. Washington is not. What was your grade in geography again?"

"Shut up," Emma smacked his arm lightly. She was silent for a while, just looking up at the apparent circles in the white paint covering the ceiling. "Do you think you'll ever marry Darcy?" 

Bucky took a deep breath, and she realized that's what he'd been thinking about.

"I don't know," he said, swallowing. "I'm not really the kinda guy a gal wants to bring home for dinner, y'know? Much less marry."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Plus, you guys haven't even been together a year. You don't have to think about marriage yet," Emma said comfortingly, patting his arm reassuringly. "Unless you like accidentally get Darcy pregnant. That might put a fire under your ass." Bucky tensed minutely again, and had Emma's hand not been resting on his arm, she wouldn't have felt the cord of muscle pull and then relax. "Uh oh. What was that for? You don't like babies?"

"Not really," Bucky said, his voice a mere monotone. He licked his dry lips. "I can't have kids." Emma's eyes widened, and she sat up to look down on him. He didn't meet her eyes. 

"...Why?"

"Freezing and unfreezing several times over didn't go so well for all of me." He rubbed his real hand over his metal one. "Kids are never gonna be a thing with me."

"Huh," Emma said. "Well, if you ever get the itch, get foster kids. Or adopt. I'd like nieces and nephews."

"I'm your brother now?" Bucky asked, raising one eyebrow a smidge. Emma laughed, and grabbed one foot, slowly putting it behind her head. She'd gotten back to her usual regime of stretching as soon as she'd healed up, and was getting back to the same level as before her capture.

"No. But your kids would call me Auntie Em, which would make them my nephews and nieces by association," she replied, lifting the other leg and tipping over with a squeal when Bucky gave her a little nudge. "Motherfucker!"

He smiled as she disentangled herself from her legs and made a face at him. 

"I'm not having kids yet, probably never. Don't tumble over yourself trying to get nieces and nephews."

"I'm pretty sure Pepper is pregnant," she told him triumphantly. "I'm getting those nieces and nephews, my friend." Bucky blinked. 

"Why do you think she's pregnant?"

"She threw up at her own wedding," she said, swaying a little where she sat in a pretzel on his bed.

"She was nervous." 

"True, but she threw up _after_ the scary part happened. The scary part being walking down the aisle. She threw up after the ceremony, but before the dinner, and had but a mere sip champagne during their toast. She wasn't drunk, or nervous. Pregnant. Boom. Detective skills," Emma said, making a vague hand gesture he was pretty sure was an insult in ASL.

"I'm sure Stark will be thrilled," he said, mildly impressed at her deductions. He hadn't noticed that, actually. He was slipping. 

"I'm not even sure Pepper knows. Jarvis?"

"Mrs Potts-Hogan has not made any statements regarding pregnancy in the past two months," Jarvis replied, his volume a little lower in Bucky's room than on the other floors. Emma beamed. 

"I'm an amazing detective. I should be Sherlock Holmes!"

"Would that make me Watson?"

"Yes," Emma told him very seriously. "Can I hang out with you here? I'm not feeling the outside world. We can watch Sherlock."

"We've seen all of them," Bucky pointed out. 

"An extra episode was aired on January first that you have yet to watch, Sergeant Barnes, Miss Emma," Jarvis told them. 

"Oh my god, yes! Roll it, Jay!" Emma said, sliding in under Bucky's arm and pointing to the ceiling. 

"Should I inform the two agents of your whereabouts, miss?" Jarvis asked dryly, and Emma smiled sweetly. 

"Yes please. Buckle down for some hardcore Sherlocking, my friend." 

\---

Sunday came, and Jane and Darcy left, Darcy with a promise to call and a kiss and Jane with a soft smile as she watched them. When she came over to Bucky she smiled up at him and threatened to launch him through a portal into nothingness if he ever hurt Darcy in any shape or form. She even pulled what Darcy called 'the snake face', and managed to look surprisingly intimidating for a person who was a head shorter than him and looked like she was 90 pounds soaking wet. 

He stood there a little stunned as she flashed him a warm soft smile as if she hadn't just told him she'd tuck him into a small corner of the universe that people didn't even know existed, and walked away with Darcy towards the jet. Thor sighed next to him, almost wistfully. 

"Lady Jane is quite the warrior. As is Lady Darcy," he said very approvingly. 

"One of her greatest accomplishments is tazing the god of thunder," Bucky replied, and Thor boomed a hearty laugh. 

"A fiery one, that girl," Thor said. Bucky nodded as they watched the jet lift, and he flipped his sunglasses down, looking after the jet until it was out of sight. He huffed a breath, pleased to see that it didn't fog, and walked back inside, not waiting for Thor to catch up to him. 

They'd gotten down onto the common floor, where the two agents were eating lunch together, a pizza box on the table as Natasha watched Clint feed Lucky a piece of pizza with mirth in her eyes. Bucky liked that look on her. Happy.

What turned them all unhappy, was the sound of the goddamn alarm. 

"Jarvis?" Tony called, coming in from the common room with Steve hot on his heels and holding their baby. 

"Threat level is high. All Avengers recommended to jump into action."

"What's the threat?" Clint asked, licking his fingers clean, his eyes sharp and focused. 

"It seems the Masters of Evil have assembled and are stirring up trouble and looking for attention, Agent Barton."

"All of them?" Tony asked, sounding surprised.

"Enchantress, Executioner, Radioactive Man, Black Knight, and Melter have been spotted, Sir."

"That's odd. They usually refrain from coming around in such big numbers," Steve said, brows furrowing. "Let's suit up."

"Why's the alarm still on?" Emma yelled from the common room.

"Wait!" Clint exclaimed, and pointed to Peter. "What about him? And Emma?" Steve seemed to remember that he was holding his baby boy, and he blinked down at Peter. 

"Nobody's around to watch them," he almost gasped, as Emma came into the kitchen, pressing her hands to her ears. 

"C'mon guys!" she said loudly over the alarm.

"What?! We're sure as hell not leaving them alone!" Tony exclaimed. 

"Of course we're not, where's Pepper?" Clint asked. Emma was handed Peter from Steve's arms before he began running his hands through his hair.

"Still on her honeymoon in France with Mr. Hogan, Agent Barton," Jarvis said. "And Colonel Rhodes is with War Machine in Europe. Miss Lewis and Dr. Foster have left for San Francisco. No one on the list is available."

"Aye," Thor rumbled, looking gloomy. "I know who we can summon."

\---

"No," Clint said firmly. 

"He's changed his ways," Thor promised. "He likes children."

"Likes to eat them, maybe!" Clint snapped. 

"We need to go!" Tony called. 

"You're okay with Loki, the God of fucking mischief, the guy who tried to take over New York two years ago, handling your kid?!" he yelled. 

"If push comes to shove, Emma could probably pop his cap off," Tony pointed out as he walked out on his runway, making a popping noise with his mouth. "Anyway, what other choice do we have?"

"We could... Do something! Have a receptionist come up and do it! Some pizza guy! Anybody but him!" 

"Emma can kill him if he tries anything. She has my permission to kill him even if he doesn't try anything," Natasha approved. "We need to run, right now. Jarvis, have the hoover scooters come down to Tony's launch pad. 

"Of course, Agent Romanoff."

"Why has everyone gone batshit?" Clint asked Jarvis as he watched the love of his life give Emma's hair a kiss and stroll over to one of the hoover scooters, getting on it and driving off. Hulk had been sent ahead, along with Steve to survey the damage the Masters of Evil were doing.

"I believe there's a bigger threat right now than the de-powered demi god that's being brought here in metaphorical chains to babysit your children, Agent Barton," Jarvis supplied.

"Not true!" he gasped. "Tony, your AI is mean."

"He's not mean, he's a truth-teller," Tony said, already off with the others. His voice reverberated around the room like Jarvis' voice used to. Peter squealed 'mama' happily at the ceiling, and Emma cooed and slid into the living room to sit by him in the playpen.

"Loki won't be able to use magic. Odin has stripped him of his powers, and your child Emma could take him in hand-to-hand combat," Thor assured him. Clint spared a glance for Bucky, who was strapping his gloves on, already geared up and calm as a cucumber. 

"Why aren't you freaking out about this?" he demanded, and Bucky gave him a slight smirk, and mimicked the popping noise Tony had made, along with a thumb motion that made his metallic fingers click against each other. 

"I don't even know the guy. I wasn't in New York when that shit went down anyway. I was on ice," he said with a shrug. "Emma!"

"Yeah?" Emma yelled back from the common room. 

"Kill him if he ticks you off!" he called and walked towards one of the hoover scooters, jumping on it. 

"That's the worst advice I've ever heard!" she called after him, peeking into the kitchen with narrowed eyes twinkling with mirth. 

"You have my permission to kill him," Clint told her very seriously, and Emma rolled her eyes. 

"I don't even know who you're talking about."

"Where were you two years ago?"

"Hiding in Texas, then Montana, then New Jersey, where I wandered around for a while, got kidnapped by Turbo-Crotch, got found by you, and here we are," Emma said, crossing her arms. "Why?"

"The guy who caused pretty much all the destruction that year is gonna be your babysitter," he told him, waving towards Thor, who spoke quietly to seemingly himself. 

"Whaaat?" Emma said, dragging the vowel out and squinting at him with her head a little tilted. "That sounds severe."

"It was," Clint told her very seriously as he tugged his vest on. 

"That seems cold. You should take the long sleeved one," Emma pointed out with pointedly raised eyebrows. Clint stared at her and sighed. 

"You're cute as a button when you care, y'know that?" he asked and tugged the vest back off, fumbling for the long sleeved one in Emma's hand. She smacked it to his chest. 

"I know," she told him and gave Peter a glance where he was in his playpen, wiggling where he was standing and holding the railing.

"Brother," Thor said, and Clint felt his blood freeze as he looked up, to find Loki standing there, frowning and in... What looked like Earth clothes. A black long sleeve, black jeans, and it made Clint feel a little better. If he'd arrived in Asgardian regalia, he'd probably shot him. 

As it was, he pulled his bow and aimed an arrow at Loki's head.

"How kind of you to not just get it over with immediately," the god said, and Clint noticed that his eyes weren't the same kind of green as they'd been when he'd been under his control, not the same angry, magical glint in them. 

"Holy fucking shit. That's Loki," Emma said, eyes huge. 

"Very observant, child," Loki said, a sneer in his voice. Emma was not perturbed. 

"Cool. Where's that staff of yours? No, wait, wasn't yours, right. But your hair is nice. It's not at all like Thor's. His is blonde. Why is your hair black? Do you look more like your mom, or your dad?" Loki was stunned at this small humans stream of questions. Her eyes got even bigger. "Or are you adopted? Cause I am."

"Your features say otherwise," Loki said, his tone clipped. He was very disgruntled with being here, a way for Odin to pressure him into repentance, obviously. Well, he wasn't having it his way. The assassin's child just grinned. All straight teeth and freckled cheeks. Looking so innocent. 

"Yeah, I know. People think I'm Natasha and Clint's kid. Which I am. But I'm adopted. I just look like them. I have a nice middlename too. Wanna know what it is?" 

"No."

"It's Hel." Loki's eyes narrowed. He'd heard about children being named after Asgardians, but no one he'd heard of had been named after _her_.

"Hel?" he said slowly, and the child nodded proudly. As if she was proud to carry death's name.

"Yeah! Like your daughter."

"Loki has a daughter? What? Who let him have kids?" Clint snapped.

"Hel is the ruler of Hel. She lives in Nifelheim, I think?" Emma said thoughtfully. 

"Why do you possess such knowledge?" Loki asked sharply. Emma grinned. 

"I like Asgardian lore, what can I say?" she shrugged. 

"Lore," Loki snorted, and Thor reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but retracted it quickly at the venom in Loki's eyes when they turned on him. 

"We must leave, brother. Take care of the children. Do not let any harm come to them," Thor said firmly, as if using his 'big brother' voice would somehow made him feel more compliant. Loki only narrowed his eyes further.

"Don't hesitate to kill him. He much as glares at you wrong, and you kill him and I won't condemn you for it," Clint said, and Emma furrowed his eyebrows, but signed OK at him, since he wasn't actually looking at her lips. He kissed her hair and fled to the hoover scooters with Thor in pursuit.

Soon they were gone, and Loki was left in the kitchen with the mortal child, who studied him curiously.

"Why does Clint hate you?" she asked. 

"He has his reasons," Loki replied sharply. 

"Why're you being like a hedgehog?" Emma fired back. 

"Hedgehog?"

"All prickly." He scowled, and Emma sighed quietly. Another scowler. Well, she'd tackled one. She liked that one. She could soften this one too. She was entirely sure of it.

"I am not prickly, mortal."

"Emma."

"Excuse me?"

"It's Emma. Not 'mortal'," Emma said. She pointed to the babbling baby in the fenced square on the living room rug. "That's Peter. You're from now on our babysitter. Be prepared to deal with exploding things and webs everywhere. As well as wall climbing. We've had that ladder in the living room for a month now. He's getting big enough to hoist himself over the playpen."

"'Playpen'?" Loki asked. 

"That little fence thingy with the bees on it that's keeping him in one spot," Emma smiled, a humored smile. Loki didn't think he was being particularly funny. "He'll need supervision. I'm pretty big, so I don't really need supervision, but you seem like a cool, interesting person slash demi-god, so I'd like to know you better too."

"And you wouldn't leave the baby with me."

"That too."

"I can see we'll get along splendidly," he said sarcastically, and the redheaded girl beamed at him. Well. That was not the reaction he was expecting. 

"You betcha! C'mon. I bet you don't know what Friends is. I'll show you." Hesitantly, Loki followed the small girl into the living room.

\---

He could do this, he convinced himself as he watched a mindless show play on the tv, that the girl next to him seemed completely into, her feet curled up under her body and playing absently with the fringe on the edge of the blanket, braiding them together. After all, he'd watched children before. It wasn't so hard, keeping track of the two children in front of him.

He still wished he had denied.

The problem did not lie in the way that they acted. The baby on the floor in front of them was amusing itself with toys and mindless games, and the small girl was occupied with the brightly lit tv. It was the fact that Loki felt no paternal feelings whatsoever for these children that complicated things.

The girl, Emma, sighed and uncurled, picking the tiny boy up on her hip as she stood up.

"Do you know how to hold kids?" she asked, bouncing Peter as she spoke. After going through with the obvious shock that the _god of fucking mischief_ was going to be their babysitter, she'd gotten that Jarvis was supposed to alert the other Avengers if anything happened, and that Loki was only there for baby purposes.

"Pesky mortal, of course I do, hand me the child," Loki said, scowling. Emma squinted at him.

"Fine. But if you break him, I've been given the permission by several people to cap you. Don't make me do that," she said, kissing Peters soft cheek before handing him to Loki. Loki picked him off her hands, looking at the child as it stared at him. 

"What?" he asked Peter, who just started smiling all goofy. Emma couldn't help the smile on her lips.

"He likes you," she said softly. "Peter, that's Loki. Can you say Loki?"

"Lokeeeee," Peter giggled, and Loki stared suspiciously at the small child in his arms as the tiny grabby hands grabbed a hold of a strand of his hair and tugged. A small smirk tugged at his lips, but he suppressed it, quite obviously so.

"Why am I holding this child?" 

"Because I need to pee," Emma called from behind him as she made her way to the bathroom behind the kitchen. Loki huffed. 

"Mortals and their undignified shortened language," he scolded as he bounced the baby absently. Peter thought that was fun, but then what was more fun than trying to climb him like a mountain? Loki grumbled and put the small child on the floor again. "Stay." The boy squealed. 

"Lokeeee!" he said, grinning ear to ear.

"You don't resemble your parents physically, but you remind me of the Man of Iron quite a lot." Loki looked around, and sighed as he sank down on the plush carpet. He had no trouble with children, really. After they began speaking, they really stopped being very interesting though. This one was well on his way to being uninteresting, but he was still... A little amusing. 

The boy made a garbled happy sound, and Loki handed him a toy version of Thor's hammer with an eyeroll. He seemed happy just to chew on it, which pleased him. No mindless beating of enemies from this one.

"You passed the first test," Loki told him very seriously, and Peter's brown eyes widened almost comically at him, and then he tipped backwards onto the carpet. Loki watched as the baby rolled over on his stomach. "What foolishness are you up to now?"

Peter crawled over to a box of toys in the corner of the room, and pulled himself standing against it. Loki watched, mildly fascinated as the child picked out a purple toy and threw it in his direction. 

"Daw," the child stated, almost triumphantly. 

"That is not a dog, child," Loki chided, and picked the toy up. He realized a moment too late that maybe the child was calling rather than stating, and suddenly he had an armful of blonde fur that tackled him to the ground and then scrambled over him in an effort to get the toy he'd dropped in surprise. "Stupid dog," he growled as he sat up, and he heard a laughter that sounded like bells. 

"That's Lucky," Emma said as she swung herself over the couch. "He loves that toy in particular. It's been gone for a while." Lucky jumped up on the couch, and dropped the purple pig in her lap. It squealed when his teeth unclasped from it, and Emma patted his head. "Good dog. Fetch!"

She threw it over the backrest into the kitchen, and like a bullet, the huge golden retriever was over it, and gone, and Peter's laughter could be heard as he clapped his hands happily at the dog. Loki sat up with an embarrassed and frustrated growl, and Emma smiled lazily at him. He saw the likeness she had with Barton, suddenly. 

"You knew that beast was going to attack me."

"First of all, beast? Dude, you're from Asgard. Your children are beasts. That's an old, very happy Golden Retriever. Second, attack? Weak, man."

"I'm not a 'dude'," Loki scowled as the dog returned with the toy, dropping it in front of Peter who squealed an earpiercing 'daw'. Emma smiled fondly at the two. 

"Yeah you are, man. Everyone's a dude. Or dudette, whichever you prefer. I use dude very genderneutrally though."

"I can appreciate that," Loki admitted begrudginly, and Emma lit up. 

"You're all for genderneutralism, huh?"

"All genders or no genders," Loki said firmly, and Emma raised her eyebrows. 

"You think there's more than two genders?"

"Of course," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, and Emma hummed thoughtfully. 

"I did not think I'd be agreeing with a dude who loves mass destruction, but here I am. I'm glad someone educated you well."

"My mother was very involved in my education," Loki said and pursed his lips as he sat back down in the couch. The soon to be toddler crawled over to Emma's leg, tugging on it with a distressed 'ma'. 

"What's the matter, Petey-pie?" she cooed as she dragged him up into her lap. He patted her stomach, and she grinned. "Hungry? So I am, little man. Let's make food. Loki?"

"Yes?"

"Please tell me that you haven't had mac n' cheese."

"No."

"Goodie. Cause we're making that. Here." She handed Loki Peter, who rested his head against Loki's neck and tugged at his hair. He couldn't be bothered to slap the child's hand away, and the dog followed Emma as her faithful servant, looking at him suspiciously. He could understand that. "Let's not break the kitchen, yeah, Jay?"

"That would save money on the monthly reparations budget, and be greatly appreciated, Miss Emma," Jarvis told her, and Emma grinned up at the ceiling as she began climbing counters to get what she needed. Loki chose to sit down by the kitchen island and feel the small shape of a child breathing against his chest. 

It had been a long time since he'd held a child this small and mortal. He still smelled like the other babies though. Fresh. Innocent. Warm. 

Loki felt his heart squeeze a little as the baby grabbed his shirt, but decided not to linger on the thought.

\---


	67. Worry And Domesticity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah I thank you all for being patient and lovin' with me!!  
> Here, have this short trash.  
> Enjoy! <3

 

Asgardians were not in the top three on Clint's list of people he wanted to hit, but they were pretty damn high up, and so he fired off an arrow that went straight through Enchantress' arm. Huh. He hadn't actually thought that would work, but the scream of pain she let out proved that it did, and alerted the Executioner, who turned his angry eyes on Clint. 

"Aw shit," Clint said calmly as Natasha tackled him to get him out of Executioners line of attack, rolling over him to shoot at Melter, whose ass Steve was whooping with his shield. Seeing as it wasn't composed of iron, Melter had no control over it, and with a thwang of Cap's shield to his face, he fell. 

"Duck!" came Bucky's call from above as a huge sword flew through the air, landing mere feet away from Clint's stomach. 

"Dick!" Clint yelled back as he aimed an arrow up into the sky, where Bucky was on top of a winged black horse, casually riding it towards the ground with a knocked out Black Knight dangling by the leg in Bucky's metal arm.

"I thought it stuck to his holster," he said with a shrug, and Clint stood up to flip him off, only to shoot off a couple of explosive arrows over at Radioactive Man to distract him as Tony shot him with his beams. Thor swung his hammer at his face, and Radioactive Man stumbled as Natasha took Enchantress down. She could chant spells all she wanted, that wouldn't stop Natasha's exquisite taste of pinching nerves that shouldn't be pinched.

The Asgardian fell daintily just as Bucky dropped down on his horse, calming it with a noise Clint wasn't even entirely sure was supposed to come from a human. 

Tony landed in front of Hulk, still punching Executioner in the face. 

"Hey, Brucie-bear!" he called, and Hulk looked up, snarling. "How about we talk science? You like that. Other you likes that."

Hulk stepped back from Executioner, and Tony praised him, talking on about a formula they'd been studying as the Hulk listened suspiciously. It would take a little bit of talking, but soon enough, Bruce would peek out from under the Hulk's green, muscly facade, and they could start heading back home.

"Criminals rounded up! Somebody call Shield for clean-up so we can get out of here!" Clint shouted over the wrecked park that had been unfortunate enough to get crashed into. It looked like a battlefield now, grass singed from Tony's beams and chunks of ground ripped out from Hulk's rampage. 

Bucky was holding the winged horse securely, petting it almost absently as he talked it down soothingly. _Weird._

Natasha finished tying up Enchantress and handed her off to Thor, who dragged her over to where Executioner was, and waved to Steve, signaling his leave. Steve saluted back, and the three disappeared in a flash of rainbow light, leaving another scorch mark of another kind on the ground. 

"Let's haul ass guys, c'mon!" Clint called, clapping his hands for emphasis. 

"Who put you in charge?" Bucky asked him as he lead the winged horse away from it's knocked out master and towards Clint. 

"The guy who suggested we put my daughter into the care of a demigod that mindfucked me!" Clint snapped, and Bucky scoffed, tugging a little on the reins as the huge black horse huffed and scraped it's hooves against the ground. 

"Jarvis would've told us if shit'd gone down by now," he said with an easy shrug. "Loki doesn't have any powers and can't function around technology. How would a guy like that take over Jarvis, huh?"

"Why are you so calm?"

"'Cause I trust her," Bucky said calmly. He paused, and then added "Emma beat me in arm-wrestling." Clint's eyes widened. 

"The metal arm?" he asked, awe making his voice a little more breathless than usual. Holy _shit_ did he have a cool kid. 

"No, real one," Bucky replied as Shield vans began circling around the park. "Still impressive. She'll be fine."

Clint fiddled with the string of his bow nervously, but nodded. Yeah. She'd be fine. She was his damn kid. Of course she'd be fine. 

\---

After he had been fed one of the least scrumptious things he'd ever experienced, Loki was forced onto the floor with the babbling infant in his lap as the other, seemingly harmless human child sat behind him, curling up under a blanket. 

Nearing May, New York City was getting warmer, in the low sixties, but Emma wasn't feeling it, what with Jarvis' pleasant air conditioning. Loki was seemingly unaffected by it, even though she knew from Thor's stories just how much heat could affect him.

"Your hair is really very pretty. Can I touch it?" she asked carefully. Loki shot her a surprised look over his shoulder, and Emma wondered if that was a no, until he gave a slight, suspicious nod. 

Emma giddily ran a hand through the black waterfall of soft hair. It wasn't like Damian's, spiky and still startlingly soft. Loki's hair was coarse but looked silky, kinda like Bucky's, except thicker. A lot thicker. 

"So, what'd you do to piss my family off?" she asked almost casually as she carded her hands through his hair. Loki watched as Peter clutched at the edges of the table, pulling himself up by the coffee table and standing steadily. 

"I tried to take over the world, and made the mistake of starting in New York," he said distantly, watching as the infant kind of launched himself up onto the table, babbling happily to himself. "Your father despises me because I chose him to be under my command due to his skills as an archer, and how close he was. Your mother... I threatened her when I was inside a cage. It didn't go very well for me. Your mother is deceivingly cunning."

"Seriously dude? That was _you_? I read an article about it when I got up, but I didn't actually know that was _you_ ," Emma gaped. Loki rolled his eyes as Peter peeked over the edge of the table, hoping he didn't fall over. "And you mindcontrolled people?"

"To be quite fair, I was unaware of what your father was for and that he had such powerful allies," Loki admitted grudgingly. Emma sat there in stunned silence, hand still in his ashen hair.

"You still threatened my mom. And mindcontrolled my dad. That was really shitty and mean of you," Emma remarked as she tugged at his hair. It wasn't super soft, but the silky smooth surface made up for it. It was the kind of jet black that shone purple and green in the light, and it was almost disgustingly pretty. 

"I'm mean," Loki observed. 

"No, you're not," Emma scoffed. "I mean, you're cruel, but you seem to have been taught to be cruel. Same thing with being mean. You've been called the god of mischief so long that you don't remember not being it. You just want people to pay attention to you 'cause your brother is so cool and you wanna show them that you're cool too. I used to know a pair of twins that always wanted to outdo the other one, like you wanna outdo Thor. And that's okay. Just... Don't _mindcontrol_. Definitely yell. Yell a lot. Yelling is always kinda relaxing."

"Yelling doesn't help, mortal child," Loki said with an eyeroll, a little rattled by her observations. Peter gave a shriek as he almost toppled over, and Loki was quick to catch him, sitting him down in his lap reproachfully.

"You tried that, huh? Your next step after yelling was world domination? I'm as impressed at your ambition levels as I'm ticked off. Who even raised you? That really shouldn't be on your list of steps to get attention."

"As you said, I'm mean. I do bad things," Loki pointed out. Emma huffed, frustrated, as Peter too clutched at Loki's hair, and the de-powered demi-god's lips curled into a small scowl as he plucked tiny fingers from his hair. 

"I don't think you're that mean. Not right now, you're not."

"I know that you could kill me if you wanted to and magic couldn't prevent it. Your power is quite strong. Your family has no qualms about ending me, and being mean to you could... Cause them to react," Loki remarked. "I'm just being mildly cautious." Emma laughed and rubbed his scalp the way Steve did to Tony to make him melt, and she felt Loki relax a little.

Huh. Look at that. Who needed mindcontrol when one had Steve's relaxing techniques?

"I can admire that," she said thoughtfully as she stroked a thumb down the slope of his cheekbone. He gave her a mildly stunned look, and Emma leaned back into the couch. "Your hair is really great. Can I braid it?"

"Braid it," Loki repeated, as Peter yet again ventured to find some way to climb onto the table. 

"Yeah. Thor taught me these really cute asgardian braids, and Darcy taught me how to make fish-tails and I can even French braid now!" Emma said proudly. "Can I try it on your hair?"

"All right," Loki said slowly, and Emma beamed, leaning forward to tangle her fingers in his hair. "You have amazing hair quality. You must spend like, ten thousand bucks on conditioner."

"Never. This is how it always is. And washing it makes it... Curly," he said distastefully. 

"You'd look gorgeous in wavy hair, dude," Emma remarked, selecting a few strands out of his hair and began twisting them.

Peter managed just as far up on the table this time, until Loki had to catch him, putting him back into his lap with a huff. 

"Be still, child. I don't see the point in you venturing on top of a table. Do you wish for a high vantage point?" Loki asked, seeming genuinely confused why a toddler who'd just learnt how to stand would want to climb a coffeetable. 

"He's probably just curious," Emma said as she poked her tongue out of her mouth in concentration, intertwining more strands.

"So young and already craving knowledge," Loki smiled as Peter looked up at him with large, brown eyes. Loki handed him another one of the toys spread out on the floor, a soft stuffed bunny.

Peter crawled out of his lap to sit on the floor in front of him, and put the bunny down in front of himself, bashing it into the ground as he babbled aimlessly. Emma chuckled at him. 

"Aw Petey-pie," she cooed as she leaned over Loki's shoulder to reach Peter. The small child touched her face with a 'ma!', and Emma grinned. "That's right. Ma likes you very much."

There was a little fart noise, and Peter beamed. The smell made Loki clutch his nose, and Emma pulled back immediately. 

"Yikes. Glad I'm not the babysitter here," Emma grimaced as Loki picked Peter up with a grim look on his face. 

"Children can be disgusting," he announced as he stood up, leaving the floor to hunt for the changing table before the child started bawling. 

\---

Clean-up took almost an hour, and then they were dragged to briefing with Fury by the hair. They were all eager to get back home, Bruce to sleep, the two couples for their children, and Bucky just to be out of the public eye. 

When Hill finally managed to push them into chairs in a briefing room and told them Fury would be _late_ , Natasha's jaw clenched at the same time as Tony's, and even the ever-patient Captain seemed very tired and frustrated.

Barton was the one who snapped first, slamming his hand into the table and startling Dr. Banner, but not enough that a calming hand on his shoulder from Tony didn't soothe him.

"I have a license that says I get to kill people, and that's what I'm gonna do if I don't get out of this _fucking_ building in ten minutes," Clint snapped, his mile-long patience shriveling up and dying on the spot. Hill raised a cool eyebrow. 

"It'll be quick. Try to be a little patient," she answered calmly. 

"Patient? I have a goddamn god hellbent on world destruction taking care of my little girl, and if I'm not there to snap his neck, then what'll fucking happen?" he yelled, and Tony drummed his fingers on the clear tabletop. 

"Let's compromise," Steve suggested, looking a little worn. "Bruce can't remember anything from when he was the big guy anyways, so he is of very little use to you. He gets to go home to sleep, and Tony gets to go home too if he leaves his helmet and the footage of the battle with me."

Hill opened her mouth to protest, but Natasha interjected. 

"I'm going too." Clint sucked in a breath to yell that he was going, but Natasha looked at him, really looked at him with those green, inquisitive eyes. 

They had a silent battle between themselves, and Clint let himself relax a little. Natasha was very capable. She could snatch Emma out of Loki's grasp. He trusted her to do that. She'd done the same to him. He gave a imperceptible nod, and Natasha's smile was small but genuine. Clint forced himself to breathe slowly, controlling his air intake in an attempt to calm his temper. 

"I'm going," Natasha repeated. All Avengers, and Bucky, stared at Maria Hill's impassive face as she mulled that over. Then she exhaled. 

"Fine. I'll throw my ass out on the line for you, but go now," Hill sighed. Tony plonked his helmet down on the table in front of Steve, and kissed him obscenely on the mouth. 

"Thank God there's always a reasonable side to you!" Tony called as he dragged the sleepy Bruce to his feet, and Natasha stood up quickly too. Her hand brushed Clint's shoulder as she walked by in a more subtle gesture than the kiss Steve and Tony had shared, but it was a gesture, nevertheless. 

Clint sought out the comfort in it as he leaned his head against the desk, waiting for Fury to show up.

\---

The ride back to the tower was hurried, Tony forgoing the suit, because without the helmet his eyes would tear up from the wind, and he'd have to cough up bugs. Instead, he sat behind Bruce who was clutching Natasha in front of him, all of them squeezed together onto one hoover scooter. 

They landed on the roof, practically running towards the elevator. 

"Jay, what's the status on Petey and Emma?" Tony asked as soon as they set foot inside the elevator, and hooked an arm under Bruce, who was falling asleep standing. Hulking out took a lot of energy.

"Young Peter and Miss Emma are perfectly fine," Jarvis said, sounding mildly surprised himself. "Peter has been changed and is currently being fed. Miss Emma made her own dinner of mac and cheese, and is currently enjoying South Park on the living room TV."

"Has Peter left your sight at all?" Tony asked. 

"Not one second, Sir."

"And Emma?"

"Never, Sir."

"Thanks Jarvis, you're the best," Tony exhaled as the doors opened, and they stepped out into the living room, only for their jaws to drop, just a little.

The three Avengers gawked as they watched Emma braid Loki's black mane into a very intricate pattern, with Peter babbling in his lap and several stuffed animals in front of him. He was speaking very gravely to one of Peter's toys as Emma smirked, and then proceeded to feed Peter almost distantly.

"Did Emma seriously tame the god of mischief?" Bruce asked, sounding almost awed, even in this tired state. 

"Holy shit," Tony whispered. "Peter even likes him. What are we going to do?"

Natasha walked into the room, and immediately, Loki froze, looking up at her as she took a photo on her phone. 

"Cute," she said with a dangerous smile. 

"You're back! Did you beat the bad guys?" Emma asked excitedly, not disentangling her fingers from his hair.

"We did," Natasha said, beckoning Emma over as Loki rose, and immediately handed over the little boy to his mama. Tony kissed Peter's face all over loudly as the little boy giggled, flailing his arms a little as Tony got a kiss back, or as good of a kiss as baby Peter could manage. 

"Where're the others?" Emma asked, looking around as she slid into Natasha's arms naturally, as if she belonged there. Natasha reflected upon how tiny Emma had been when they'd first met her, all skin taut over bones and knobby knees, in comparison to how she was now, taller and with more fat on her, soft joints and soft angles. 

"We cut a little deal," Natasha explained, rubbing Emma's back as she pressed the girl to her chest, without taking her eyes off the gaunt demi-god standing in her living room. "We got to go home while the others had to brief."

"Boring," Emma decided, snuggling further into Natasha's arms. 

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Natasha asked, and Emma looked up at Loki, and then back to her mother. 

"Have you ever had an asgardian that you've only read and heard about for years suddenly sit in front of you and eat mac and cheese while happily discussing how pretty his daughter is and how fluffy one of his sons are?" Natasha finally tore her eyes away from Loki to look down on her daughter's practically beaming expression. Emma seemed genuinely pleased with this. "Didn't think so. It was amazing. His hair is also very very nice." Emma's look turned grim. "I'm sorry he was mean to you." 

Natasha's breath caught as Emma pushed her face into Natasha's side again, as if trying to crawl under her skin and hide there, seeking as well as giving comfort. 

"So you liked having him as a babysitter?" 

"Well yeah," Emma mumbled. "But he really needs some love. Someone should give it to him."

"I swear to god you didn't get the whole 'fix the world by loving it' thing from me," Natasha murmured. "That one's on Clint."

Emma laughed beautifully. 

"Loving fixed you, didn't it?" she asked. Natasha looked over at Loki, at the way he watched Peter and Tony interact as Bruce collapsed on the couch to nap, dragging the blanket thrown over one of the sides over himself.

"I think he needs the kind of loving you can't give him, возлюбленный," Natasha said thoughtfully.

"A girlfriend?"

"Someone from his world." 

"Oh." They watched him as his gaze redirected to them, huddled close together. Emma turned in Natasha's arms, still with them wrapped tightly around her, and beamed at Loki, who offered a smirk in return. 

"Your children are back in your possession. Now put me back," Loki said, voice silky smooth. 

"Put you back?" Tony questioned. 

"I'm supposed to be in a prison cell in Asgard. I prefer that to being around you sniveling mortals," he said haughtily, and Emma giggled. 

"You're cute when you do that," she said to him, and his eyes narrowed viciously. Emma grinned at him. "Tone it down. They'll be sending you off soon. You'll have to deal with them for just a little while, hopefully."

Bruce suddenly grunted from the couch, and fumbled with something, holding up a vibrating phone with Emma's flashy Star Wars case on it. 'Dami' flashed on the screen, and Emma leapt at it, whispering excitedly into the phone as she walked into the kitchen, twirling a lock of copper hair as she went. 

The room went silent, and Tony and Natasha exchanged looks, him leaning a little further into Loki's space as Natasha circled behind him casually.

"So... you don't happen to know why Enchantress was around making noise, huh? From what I recall from your brother and Emma's asgardian ramblings, you two have a... Intimate relationship," Tony said with a slight smirk. Loki rolled his eyes. 

"Amora hasn't spoken to me since I proved to be useless without my powers," he said sharply, flicking his hand dismissively as if proving just how useless he was without his magic. His lips pursed. "And it was never like that."

"No?" Tony asked, surprised. 

"She would demand for me to remain monogamous and not do so herself. Wretched quim," he said vehemently. 

"Riiight," Tony said with furrowed eyebrows, as a flash of lightning came from outside. "There's your ride."

Emma entered the room again with her phone still pressed to her face. 

"Wait! Hugs!" she exclaimed, but Natasha held her back as Loki walked out on the balcony, scowling up at the sky. "Go visit Hel!" Emma yelled out through the open balcony door as the wind whipped, and Loki nodded.

"Tell her you love her!" Emma yelled, and Loki shot her a confused look, before a flash of blinding rainbow light shone through the air, and he was gone. 

\---

"Another demi-god," Damian said in a monotone. "I know, Barton. I've heard you say it twice now."

"I was just really shocked, and he was kinda sweet, in a you kind of way, y'know? You weren't very alike, but you both did that thing," Emma said as she kicked her feet a little where she was lying on her bed, flipping through her notes. 

The others were yet to return, and it was inching closer to Emma's bedtime. She'd been studying for the upcoming math test when Damian had called, again. Twice in one day. She wondered what was making him restless enough to do that. 

"What thing?"

"Oh, you know, the thing with the terrible attitude and the angry demeanor but very sweet, very hidden disposition," she told him. Damian made that sharp -tt- noise with his tongue, and it made Emma smile. She hadn't seen him since Friday, and she felt terribly needy, but she... Kinda missed him. 

"I do _not_ do that."

"You do. It's kinda cute. If it stays when you grow up you're going to be even more of a terror than you are now," Emma laughed fondly. Damian huffed on the other end. 

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asked. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, first things first, panic about my math test. Then panic about my grades. Then have gym. Some contemplation about life. Maybe I'll be able to squeeze in an existential crisis after lunch but before school's out. What about you?" Damian snorted his amusement. 

"Nothing in particular. I thought we could... Do something." 

"Oh? What kind of something?"

"I don't know. It's supposed to be sunny in your part of town tomorrow. We could take a stroll."

"Without getting assaulted by the press wanting to know about the mysterious 'poor girl you're taking pity on'?" Emma snorted. "Yeah right."

"Not over that yet, I see," Damian said and smacked his lips, as if in thought. "The manor is suddenly overflowing with new nuisances."

"New nuisances?" Emma questioned. "I thought you only had three siblings."

"Four," Damian said.

"How come I've never met the last brother?" she asked, feeling a little hurt. She'd come to trust Damian, and Damian had trusted her in return, enough to show his home to her, and his siblings, and tell her about what he did at night. And yet she hadn't met all of his siblings?

"Sister," Damian corrected. "She's been away for a while. She recently returned, and then Drake dropped back in, along with Grayson, who's suddenly here for bonding time."

"You have a sister? I have to meet her, man," Emma exclaimed, rolling over on her back. "Is she adopted too?"

"Yes. Recently."

"How recently?"

"Before I was thrust into this mess of a family. Brown! You put that-" There was a crackle, and then a giggle.

"Are you Damian's girlfriend?" was the breathy question, and Emma laughed.

"He wishes," she grinned, and then there was a squawk as whoever was holding the phone was no doubt ruthlessly wrestled to the floor, and Damian yelling angrily. Emma snickered, and that brought him to a pause in his yelling. "Your sister, by any chance?"

"No," Damian said sharply, and there was a far-away cackle on the other end. "That was an uninvited vermin."

"So probably someone you know and love."

"Definitely not. I... Don't dislike my sister. She's acceptable. Brown, however, can fuck off to whatever planet is further away than Pluto," Damian said, smoothing his voice out to keep it from cracking.

"I really wanna meet her now, with you singing her praises," Emma laughed. Damian was silent.

"Father will be home tomorrow," he said, almost tentatively.

"Oh cool, I'll get to meet him too. Just gotta ask mom, hang on a sec," she said, rolling onto the floor and bending unnecessarily to get to her feet, just to know she could.

Opening the door from her room, Emma peeked out into the living room, finding Natasha sitting there with Lucky's head in her lap, watching the news as she ate a pear.

"Hey mom?" Emma asked, and Natasha turned, raised one eyebrow, as her mouth was full of pear. "Can I go to Damian's house tomorrow after school?"

Natasha chewed on that a few moments, and swallowed.

"Alright," she replied, and Emma happily bounced onto the couch on the side of Natasha that wasn't occupied by the golden retriever.

"She said yes," Emma told Damian, and he hummed his assent.

"I shall inform Pennyworth," he replied, and she smiled.

"Isn't it about time you got ready for some hardcore napping?" Emma asked him, looking at the clock.

"I do have some things to attend to. Tomorrow, Barton," he replied, that kind of dangerous smirk obvious in his tone.

"Tomorrow. Bye Dames," Emma smiled, and hung up.

"You seem to like Damian," Natasha murmured into her hair, and Emma yawned a little. 

"Yeah," she sighed as Natasha petted her hair carefully, making Emma purr in reply.

"He seems... Intense."

"I don't do non-intense people," Emma told her as she curled up under the blanket Natasha had thrown over her own legs, waiting for Clint to come back. "They're usually not very fun. Intense is fun. And I like his kind of intense. Hope is intensely focused on things, Layla is intensely focused on gossip, TJ is intensely focused on all things geeky, and Damian is just intense personified."

"Don't smother yourself in intense," Natasha admonished gently as they leaned on each other and stared at the bright screen on the wall.

After a few minutes of watching, Natasha noticed Emma starting to doze, and she smiled secretly to herself.

When she'd returned to the tower, she was scared. She wasn't mindnumbingly so, but goddammit was she scared. Scared that Loki had hurt Emma, had controlled her like he had Clint, and that she'd have to fight Emma to the death. Only to find her stuffed of mac and cheese and braiding his hair.

God, but Emma was just so _amazing_ sometimes.

She didn't know if Emma would've still been this amazing if she'd gotten to keep her biological parents, but selfishly Natasha wanted to think that nothing could make her as amazing as this than them.

The ding of the elevator was soft and quiet in the dark room, and Natasha turned only enough to see Clint's outline as he silently walked over.

"Well hello there, my two favorite people in the world," he murmured, kissing Natasha's head. She smiled at him, and stroked Emma's hair.

"Come on, возлюбленный. Time for you to go to sleep," Natasha said and nudged Emma, who cracked an eye open. When she saw Clint she mumbled something and angled her cheek upwards for a kiss. Clint chuckled, that tired one that Natasha associated with anger tiring him out, and kissed her cheek, earing him a happy murmur.

"Upsie daisy," Clint huffed as he heaved Emma up into his arms, causing the girl to groan a little. Natasha lead the way into her room, plucking her notes up and putting them on her bookbag as Clint arranged Emma haphazardly on the bed, all legs and arms spread like a butterfly.

Natasha tugged the covers up, and, feeling a tug in her heart, kissed her forehead gently as they both took a few steps back towards the door.

" **Your hearing aids are out** ," Natasha signed as they shut the lights off and stepped out into the hallway.

Clint shrugged.

" **Batteries died** ," he told her, and she nodded, slipping her arm around his neck to give him a soft peck.

" **Let's go to bed,** " Natasha signed, and Clint smiled as the feeling of domesticity struck him. Tucking Emma in, going to bed. Like a very normal couple.

"Alright," he murmured and let Natasha take his hand to lead him into her bedroom.

\---


	68. Coffee And Crowns Of Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies!  
> Hope you enjoy all the fluff and feels in this chapter. I know my skills are kinda waning, but I'll be wrapping this babe up soon enough, so you won't have to suffer through when the quality goes even worse.  
> Anyway, enjoy! <3

 

At the lunch table the next day, when they'd discussed upcoming projects, Hope asked Emma if she could come over to work on the English essay with her. 

"Mm, sorry, not today. I'm heading to Damian's place," she replied, shoving Damian distractedly. He steeled against it, and proceeded to drop tomato sauce onto Emma's sandwich. "Jackass." She dipped her finger in TJ's nacho cheese and tried to flick it at Damian, only for him to grab her by the wrist and lick it off. "Ew."

"You're disgusting, Barton," Damian said with that scowl that meant he was secretly happy. 

" _You_ 're disgusting. You licked my finger."

"You dipped your finger into my cheese," TJ protested. "Now it's completely inedible."

"I'll take it," she smiled at him, swiping the tiny plastic cup from him and dipping her finger in it to lick it. Damian's jaw clenched, and he hunched a little more over the table. Layla's eyes narrowed, and she bit into a fry viciously.

"So... Is it a date?" she asked casually to the other side of the table. 

"No," Damian and Emma said at the same time, not even looking at each other. Layla blew her bangs out of her eyes with a downright murderous expression, and opened her mouth, only for Hope to grab her hand under the table. 

"I suggest we play truth or dare," Hope announced, giving Layla a sideways glance. Layla immediately perked. 

"Oh, yes," she said with a sweet smile. 

"A slumber party game in the school cafeteria," Damian said, in that deadpan tone that told everyone just how much fun he thought that would be. 

"Why not?" Emma asked him, a challenge in her tone as she sipped her drink innocently. Damian narrowed his eyes, and Hope smirked as she raised her eyebrows at Layla in triumph. Layla watched, awed, as Emma and Damian met eyes intensely. 

"Fine. Play your childish games. I will not be a participant," Damian sneered as he broke the look, biting into his apple with enough malice to kill a man. 

"C'mon Dames," Emma said, and pouted a little. Damian's face was a stone mask, until Emma patted his cheek. "You know you wanna play childish games with your friends." 

"-Tt-."

"Prove you can play nice." That got a spark to appear in Damian's eyes. 

"Alright," he said, sitting back and flicking a crumb off the table. "Barton. Truth or dare."

"Truth," Emma smirked. Damian hummed. 

"Why do you engage in such silly games such as these?" he asked. 

"Because I've never had silly enough friends to play them before," she replied simply, and turned a grin on Layla. "Layla. Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Layla said suspiciously.

"How on are you about that football player? Like, do you want to date him? Remember the key word here is 'truth'," Emma said, smiling devilishly at Layla. 

"Rude," Layla gasped. 

"That's what the game is for," she smirked at Layla. "Invasive questioning."

"You asshole," Layla sighed, and bit her plump lip. "I don't think... I don't think I wanna date him. He's just insanely hot. Illegally hot."

"Which one is it even?" Emma asked, and Layla clicked her tongue. 

"Nope. Wait for your next turn."

"That blonde disaster over there," Damian said, and pointed towards a guy three tables away from them. He was tall, indeed blonde, and had very blue eyes, a crooked smile. Emma could see Layla crushing on him easily.

"Oh, damn. He's kinda cute," Emma said as Damian was kicked under the table by Layla. "Definitely your type."

"Not yours?" Damian asked, rubbing his shin. 

"I don't really have a type," Emma shrugged. "But if I had one, he wouldn't be one of them."

"Really now."

"Mhm."

Layla pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes with a loud sigh. 

"Damian. Truth or dare?" she asked. Damian scowled at her, and then rolled his eyes. 

"Dare."

"Aha! I dare you to take Emma on a date," Layla said triumphantly, and Damian rolled his eyes again. 

"Surely you wouldn't try to keep me to that dare, would you, Jones?" he asked, looking generally unimpressed. 

"Maybe I would," Emma said, and shock flickered over his face. 

"You would like to go on a date with me." It was more of a statement than a question.

"I dunno. Depends on what it would entail. Care to share your plans?" Emma smirked. Layla held her breath in anticipation. Damian stared at Emma for a solid four seconds, and then he seemed to shake himself out of it. 

"-tt- This game is a joke," he muttered as he stood up. His cheeks looked a little tinted pink as he headed away from the table. Layla released her breath in a frustrated sigh, and Hope patted her thigh.

"Give it time, princess," she said quietly as Emma stole Damian's apple off his tray. 

"He's not coming back," she said with a shrug as TJ raised an eyebrow. 

"You keep sticking your fingers into other people's food," TJ scolded, and Emma grinned around a mouthful of apple. 

"You love me," she challenged, and almost spat out a piece of apple in the process. 

"Gross," Layla groaned. 

"Manners, Em," Hope said with a cute, crinkled nose of disgust.

When they'd all finished, they turned their trays in, and got their books. TJ had class on the other side, so he went off on his own while the girls headed towards their classrooms. They'd only gotten a couple of feet away from their lockers, when a group of older boys turned around the corner ahead of them. Emma vaguely recognized the leader of the pack, but didn't pay much attention to them, until Hope sighed quietly.

"Eight-graders," she murmured to Emma, who slowed to a stop as the boys did.

"You're that girl that punched me," the leader said, as the rest of the boys kind of gathered up behind him like a dam waiting to break.

"Ah, you again. What was your name again? I remember distinctively that you were very sexist the last time we spoke, but I can't for the life of me remember why I didn't punch you more than once for it," Emma said sarcastically, tapping a finger to her chin. 

"Mr. Fitz only let you get one good swing in," Hope said, and Emma snapped her fingers. 

"Right! That was you. That black eye seems to have healed up just fine." She smiled sweetly at him, and the guy sneered. What was his name again? Edison? Edward? Maybe Ed? Eddie? Eddie! Right. 

"You really shouldn't have messed with me, y'know," Eddie threatened, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Oh, 'cause you're really terrifying with your little posse. I'm shaking in my boots," Emma replied sarcastically.

"You should," Eddie replied. Emma smacked her lips. 

"Somehow, I doubt that. You're just doing this to prove that you're a manly man who didn't get beaten up by a little girl. You're doing this for them," she said, waving towards the guys behind him.

"That's stupid. You're stupid," the guy said as his eyebrows furrowed in distress, and Emma huffed. 

"I'm stupid? Good comeback there. Seriously, go pick on someone your own size, dickcheese," she said with an eyeroll. 

"You should be glad I don't punch girls," he said cockily, crossing his arms over his chest. Emma handed her books over to Hope calmly, and clenched her one fist, holding it up in front of his face. 

"See this? This babe is gonna come down riiight..." Emma uncurled her hand to poke his nose with a smile. "There. Right there. If you don't move on."

He slapped her hand away, and Emma sighed inwardly. 

"Dude. Just leave," Layla said. The guys behind him snickered and imitated her mockingly, and Emma frowned as she sized the guy in front of her up. 

He wasn't all that much taller than her, maybe four inches, and kinda built, like a footballplayer rather than a track and field kind of guy. She could have taken him down with her arms tied behind her back. 

That thought sent uncomfortable thoughts flashing through her mind, and she swallowed. She could take him. That was all that mattered. Emma was good at this. 

_You're so good, my little star._

The unmistakable sound of Ralph's voice in her head made a sudden urge to vomit rise in her throat. 

Whatever the douchebag in front of her was called, his smile was a little more of a leer, the way his dark-blonde hair looked like in this light was more of a brown, and Emma _panicked_ , the animal instincts in her reacting to the threat in front of her. 

Her solid fist connected with the guy's rib, right next to his sternum, where she could have killed him, and then she hooked her foot into his knee as he toppled backwards. 

The boys that had previously been standing behind the guy ran away immediately, and Layla and Hope gaped as Emma used the heel of her hand to break his nose with a sickening crack. 

"Barton!" came the shocked call, and Emma looked up with glazed eyes as Damian stared at her. Her lungs suddenly felt too small, and she crawled off the now unconscious boy, fingers twitching. The world was going black around the edges, fuzzy and it was getting hard to focus. Her heart was beating in her ears, and Emma curled in on herself.

"Fuck," she gasped, her breaths coming short and irregular. 

"Barton," Damian said as he sat down in front of her, and Emma recoiled at his voice, the register deep and sickeningly sweet in her brain as it echoed in her mind.

"Oh hell," Hope said and shoved Damian out of the way as she sat down in front of Emma's shivering body. "Emma? It's Hope. Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me."

It was tinny, somehow, but Emma could hear her. She nodded as the black became much more pertinent at the edges of her vision. It was hard to focus, but Hope's hair was like a kind of beacon, until the red of her hair turned into blood, blood on her hands, in her hair, under her fingernails, so much blood...

"I'm going to touch you now. Is that okay?" Emma breathed heavier, but reached a shaking hand out, and Hope took it, placing it right over her heart and carefully tilting Emma's head up. "Listen to my heart. Breathe with me. In..." Emma followed instructions, and held it until Hope told her to exhale. 

After a few more slow breaths, Emma's fingers curled into Hope's bright blue shirt, and she whimpered.

"That's it, I'm here," Hope said soothingly. "C'mere. We're good. You're good. See?" Carefully, Emma uncurled, and was swept into Hope's warm embrace. "Lookit. You're all good. Nothing to worry about." 

"You handle panic attacks," Damian said, sounding almost astonished as Hope shrugged. 

"I've read about some techniques," she said as she rocked with Emma on the floor, shushing her soothingly. Layla just stood there, unmoving. 

"Holy shit," she whispered as the boys from earlier appeared with the principal and Mr. Fitz, who took one look at the four of them and then tightened his mouth into a line. 

"I've got these guys," Mr. Fitz said as the principal helped the boy, who was now just barely conscious again, to the nurse's office. He took one look at the mess Emma was, and nodded. "Right. My classroom. Right now. C'mon."

\---

Emma was sipping water out of Mr. Fitz's coffeemug with the logo of the Denver Broncos on it as Hope held her tightly. Layla was explaining what happened to Mr. Fitz, and Damian was fidgeting as he stood next to her, looking restless and staring at Emma. 

"This kid. Emma punched him a while back?" Mr. Fitz asked, his elbows on his desk and his one hand in a fist with the other one covering it. 

"Waaay back. I don't even think she remembered until they stood in front of us," Layla said with a nod. 

"And now she punched him. Again. But two more times."

"Actually, just one more time. She did some weird twisty-move that I've never seen before in my life and managed to get him on the ground and be on top of him to punch him in the face in seconds."

"I suggest her parents be called," Damian said lowly, finally snapping his eyes away from Emma to look Mr. Fitz straight in the eyes. 

"Jarvis," Emma said quietly, and Hope swept her hair out of her face with a gentle look of worry on her face. 

"What did you say?" she asked, and Emma cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. 

"Call Jarvis," she said, her voice trembling just a little. Damian nodded without meeting her eyes, and scribbled a number onto a piece of paper, handing it to Mr. Fitz.

"That. Call that instead."

Mr. Fitz looked over at Emma, and looked genuinely concerned as he dialed the number. Jarvis answered quickly, and Mr. Fitz cleared his throat. 

"Hello, I'm Mr. Fitz, Emma's teacher. I need to speak to a parent of hers," he explained gravely. "Thank you." There was a moment of silence as Jarvis connected him, and the large man spoke to a strangely not upset mother for a few moments before he hung up. "They're on their way."

Emma nodded and curled up into Hope's arms again, handing the mug to Layla, who put it on the desk gently. Damian motioned towards Emma's hair, and Hope raised an eyebrow at him. He made a stroking motion, and she raised her other eyebrow at him. 

"Trust me," he said quietly, and Hope stroked Emma's hair gently, earning her a soft sigh from the girl in her embrace. Hope kept up the motion, and Emma relaxed in her grip. Hope shot Damian a glance, and he shrugged at the silent question. 

"Weirdo," Hope murmured fondly. 

"Detective," he argued.

It took a good ten minutes for Clint and Natasha to get to the school and right classroom, but when they did, they burst in like a whirlwind.

"возлюбленный?" Natasha asked as Clint shot the teacher a polite smile. The oldest of the redheads crouched in front of the Emma-Hope pile, and reached a hand out. 

"Mom?" came Emma's muffled reply, and she looked up from Hope's arms. 

"Yeah," Natasha murmured, her calm facade falling as Emma forced herself standing to hug her mother. Natasha clutched Emma possessively to her chest as Emma breathed in the comforting scent of her in a leather jacket.

"What happened?" Clint asked calmly, even as he freaked out a little on the inside. Emma having a panic attack at school? Really not good.

"That dickwad-" Layla began, but was shot a stern look by Mr. Fitz. She sighed. "That dude that Emma got in trouble for punching a while back? He came back, and Emma kinda punched him and then freaked out."

"Emma has..." Clint trailed off and looked over at Emma as she peeked out of Natasha's embrace, red locks falling over Natasha's black leather jacket. 

"I have PTSD," she announced quietly. Mr. Fitz eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

"Oh shit," Layla said, looking mortified. "I had no clue. You're not..."

"That weird?" Emma finished with a bubble of laughter. "No. I'm usually fine. It's just... I've done some shit things. Gotten some shit things done to me. Some flashbacks hit me when I punched that guy."

"Which gave you a panic attack," Hope concluded from behind her. 

"I just wanted a normal school experience, y'know? Like in the movies. Friends. People all around you. It's nice," Emma smiled, a feeble little smile that made Damian's heart stutter in his chest. He crossed his arms over his chest to keep it in, like caging a fluttering bird. 

"Have you considered therapy?" Mr. Fitz asked kindly, and Emma nodded. 

"Yeah, I've got a therapist. He's nice," she smiled. She'd gone to see a Dr. Kyle Wyatt a couple of times, and decided that even if she always had nightmares the nights after she'd gone and seen him, he was nice, and let her talk and he'd even taught her to play chess during their few sessions. Clint even liked him. He was good, for a Shield shrink. 

"I'm glad," Mr. Fitz said. Clint came over to stroke Emma's back, and he turned to him. "Punching students is still not allowed."

"Can she slip away from being sent home if we argue PTSD as the cause?" Layla asked, blue eyes wide and innocent, but the look sharp and intriguing.

"Goddamn, you are going to be a terrifying lawyer," Hope said as she stood up. Layla flashed her a sharp grin and hopped up on Mr. Fitz's desk, smiling at him sweetly. 

"I know," she smirked. "So?" Mr. Fitz ran a huge hand through his blonde hair with a sigh. 

"I don't know. We could try it, I suppose, but I don't think Mr. Breinburn would be very pleased with it," he frowned. Clint clapped his hands together with a pleasant smile.

"I'll be glad to beat into him that PTSD is a serious, terrible thing and should be treated seriously," he said with a smile. He grabbed Natasha around the waist and Emma's shoulder and steered them towards the door. "C'mon, let's go kick some ass, family style!"

\---

After a long, annoying discussion with the pigheaded principal, Emma was no longer at risk for being expelled. She was let off with a warning, and was supposed to apologize to the boy whose nose she'd broken, and whose rib she'd cracked. 

They were standing in front of each other in the nurse's office, Eddie sitting in a chair and his mother standing behind him worriedly, his father's face red with rage. It was like a stand-off, somehow, with Mr. Breinburn standing in the middle of them. 

"Bartons, meet the Grants," he said, waving between the two. "Now, Emma, I believe you had something to say to Eddie?"

Emma stared at Eddie critically, taking in the purpled nose and his slightly ragged breathing. Natasha was looking blankly at Eddie Grant's father, staring him straight in the eye like Tony always said gave everyone the creeps. Clint kept a hand between Emma's shoulderblades, a kind of grounding point. 

"Look on the bright side, a broken nose makes you look older and cooler," she said, and Mr. Breinburn sighed exasperatedly. 

"Emma," he said sternly, and Emma rolled her eyes. 

"I'm sorry you can't roll with a punch?" she tried. Mr. Breinburn's glare was not friendly. She sighed. "Okay, fine. Do you know what sexism is?"

Mr. Breinburn gave her a weird look, but didn't stop her. Eddie shot him a confused look too, before he turned back to Emma. 

"No?" Eddie replied carefully. 

"It's when you discriminate, use, or oppress people because of their sex. Like how you said girls don't like Star Wars because there's too much fighting? That's being sexist. Sexism is not okay. You should google it and learn from it," Emma said very pointedly, and flicked her eyes up towards the angrily flushed face of Mr. Grant. "Parents don't teach you everything. Neither does school. Some things you've just gotta learn for yourself. Oh, right and sorry about the punching. Expect it to keep occurring if you keep being sexist."

"That's as good as it's gonna get, isn't it?" Mr. Breinburn sighed woefully. 

"I'd like to think we've taught Emma when an apology is in order and when it isn't," Clint said, his eyes not off of the abhorred Mrs. Grant. She was staring at Emma with her slack-lipped mouth open, as if she couldn't imagine anyone so undisciplined and rude.

"I agree," Natasha said coldly.

"You can leave," Mr. Breinburn sighed and rubbed his forehead as he left the room, with the Grants following him, the father still flushed with anger and the mother still terribly abhorred at Emma's behavior. 

The assassins and their child watched them go, until the door to the nurse's office closed. Clint smiled down at Emma. 

"You're cute when you educate people," he said and dragged her into a hug. Emma shrugged. 

"He needs to know," she argued. 

"Alright kiddo, let's get you home," he said with a smile. 

"What? No," Emma said, pulling out of his hug. Clint's smile dropped, and Natasha's eyebrows furrowed. 

"No? What do you mean, no?" Clint asked, surprise in his tone and all over his face. Emma looked from one parent's face to the other. 

"I'm going to Damian's place today after school," she said, furrowing her eyebrows back at them. 

"Sweetie, you had a _panic attack_ ," Natasha said, stressing the words. "You need to get home."

"But I'm fine now!" Emma assured them. "Really!"

The two agents traded a look. 

"Going to Damian's house is that important to you?" Clint asked with a raised eyebrow. Emma nodded, and placed her hands on her hips. 

"It's very important to me. I wanna hang out with him."

"You like-like him," Clint accused, and Emma's eyes widened. 

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Children," Natasha cut them off, and both looked at her. "I think it's nice that you... like-like Damian. But are you sure you can handle it?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Emma said with a wave of her hand. They stood silently for a moment. 

"What gave you a panic attack in the first place?" Clint asked silently. Emma wrapped her arms around herself protectively. 

"I just-I thought I heard him." She swallowed. "I heard him say 'you're so good, my little star'." Emma shivered as the words echoed inside her head, accompanied by his silky voice telling her to do it again, stab better, get faster-

Emma began humming loudly, and Clint, recognizing the Taylor Swift song for what it was, began to hum along, with a befuddled look on his face. When Ralph's laughter retreated, Emma stopped humming, smiling up at her parents. 

"See? Totally fine," she said proudly. Natasha's perfectly shaped lips were pressed tightly together with suppressed anger. She hated Ralph for everything he'd ever done to Emma, everything he'd done to cause her harm. 

"Would you feel better if you got to go home with Damian?" Natasha asked. Emma nodded enthusiastically. Natasha's green eyes met Clint's blue ones, and they had another silent conversation, Emma's pair of eyes flicking between them as they did. 

"Alright," Clint said slowly, finally looking back at Emma. "You can leave with Damian."

"Yes!" Emma exclaimed. "Awesome. Thanks, guys." She hugged both of them, then shot a look at the clock on the wall. "Oh shit, I gotta go. My next class begins in six minutes. See you at home later!" 

Emma blew them a kiss before dashing out of the nurse's office. 

"She got that from you," Clint said with a long-suffering sigh as the door slammed closed. 

"Wanting to be on time? Well, she certainly didn't get it from you," Natasha commented with a raised eyebrow, and Clint grinned. 

"Aw, Nat, you know you love me, tardy and all," he said as he swung an arm over her shoulder, letting her lead him out of the nurse's office.

"Whatever you say, birdbrain," she said with a fond eyeroll. 

\---

Bucky stared at Darcy as she spoke to her ma over the phone, her feet in his lap. She spoke animatedly, hands waving as she gossiped and talked about the amazing coffee machine Tony had. 

"Yeah! I know she shouldn't have married him! He was a cock from the beginning, but she wouldn't listen to me! He cheated? Well, I'm not surprised," Darcy said, snorting as she fixed her glasses on her face. "I told ya, ma. He's bad news."

Bucky grabbed her feet and massaged them lightly. Darcy's eyelids fluttered closed at the contact, and she held a thumb up at him to show her approval. Bucky smiled slightly, kneading the arch of her foot and getting her to bite her lip. 

"What? If I have any bad news? I'll have you know my choices of partners have always been well-thought out and- Oh jesus christ, _there_." Bucky rubbed the same spot again, and Darcy groaned. "No, ma, I'm not having sex. I'm getting a really good footrub by a gentleman." Bucky snorted at that, and Darcy flashed him a smile so beautiful he felt like someone had punched the breath out of his lungs.

"A gentleman?" he could practically hear her mother say, intrigued. 

"I've told you about him, ma," Darcy sighed as she scooted over the couch to lean on Bucky's chest. Now he could clearly hear her mother's voice. 

"How come I've never seen any pictures?"

"You think I'm making this perfect gentleman up?" Darcy asked, eyebrows raised in almost challenge towards the mother she wasn't seeing. 

"I don't know what to think, honey."

"I hate to interrupt," Bucky said distantly, and Darcy angled the phone towards him, "but I'd like to think I'm real."

There was a silence over the line, and Darcy laughed as she put the phone back to her ear. 

"That sound real to you?" she asked. 

"How do I do a video call?" her mother retaliated. 

"Hang on," Darcy said, pressing an icon. A close-up of a woman's face appeared on the screen, and Darcy sighed. "Ma. Pull the phone further away from your face."

"What?"

"Away! Pull it further away. Like you're taking a picture," Darcy said exasperatedly. The woman pulled the phone back, and now Bucky could see a face. 

The woman was undoubtedly Darcy's mother, same dark hair but tinged with gray, and vibrant eyes that sparkled as they widened. She had prominent wrinkles, but they enhanced her beauty, making her look like the real woman who had raised four kids and worked at the same time that Bucky had heard stories about. 

"There you are. Remember how I've told you about Bucky?" Darcy said, holding the phone further away so that Bucky appeared over her shoulder, smiling slightly into her hair. He didn't even realize he was doing it until he caught sight of himself in the little square at the bottom of the screen. 

"You didn't tell me he was a looker!" Darcy's ma exclaimed indignantly. 

"Of course he's a looker," Darcy scoffed. "Bucky, this is my ma, Bella. Ma, this is Bucky. My boyfriend."

"Hello, ma'm," Bucky said politely, wanting to hide his face in Darcy's floral smelling hair. Seemingly sensing it, Darcy took his hand and intertwined their fingers tightly. 

"Oh, darlin', just Bella is fine. He's even got manners! I can't believe you haven't brought him over yet!" she accused. Darcy shrugged. 

"I like this one," she told her ma very seriously. 

"I'm not the kind of guy you'd wanna meet over dinner anyway," Bucky blurted out, and Darcy looked up at him worringly. 

"Don't do that to yourself," she murmured, bringing their hands to her lips to kiss them. "He's not a people person." Bucky nodded in agreement. Darcy's mother watched with imploring eyes

"Our house can get a little crowded," she said thoughtfully. "I would love to meet you over coffee rather than these silly little tinny videos."

"What, now?" Darcy said with a raised eyebrow. 

"Don't sound so surprised. I like to leave my home more than you do," she scoffed. "Maybe around five?"

"You're gonna drive up here?" Darcy asked, seemingly even more surprised now than before. 

"Well it's not everyday I get to see my girl so happy and looking safe, even in that superhero-stuffed tower." Darcy glanced at Bucky, and Bella's eyes widened. "He's another superhero, isn't he?"

"Hey, at least this one isn't a god, and I haven't tazed this one!" Darcy said with an accusing look at her mother. Bella shook her head with a tsk. 

"Which one of the spandexed buff ones are you?" she asked, arching her eyebrow, and she looked so much like Darcy in that moment that Bucky almost snorted. 

"I don't like spandex, surprisingly," he said with a slight smile.

"Well thank God for that," Bella sighed. "You still go out risking your life, though, don't you?"

"I'm too good to really be at risk," Bucky said bitterly, and Darcy looked at him for a few silent moments.

"At five. The Starbucks we like. That sound good?" Darcy asked the screen. 

"Sure," her ma said, looking at her daughter and seemingly understanding that Darcy needed an out of this phone call. "See ya then sweetie."

"Bye, ma," she said and hung up, turning around in Bucky's lap to straddle his thighs and lean her head against his shoulder. 

Her deft fingers ran through his long hair, soothing him as his hands found their usual resting place on her hips, stroking his thumbs over the curves. They sat silently as she thought, and Bucky dreaded what would come out once she opened her mouth. 

"You think you need to prove yourself?" Darcy asked him quietly after a few moments of silence. 

"I was saved so that I could kill for people. I got this," he tapped his metal arm with a metallic thunk, "so that I could kill for people. And I've killed. A lot."

"Yeah," Darcy murmured. "I know."

"I need to save as many lives as I've taken," he said resolutely. 

"Red in your ledger you'd like to wipe out?" Darcy asked with a hint of a smile. 

"That's Natalia's line, but something like it," he replied and stroked down her back. 

"Then what? When you've done that, do you honestly think you can put the whole superhero thing on ice? Stop saving people?" He thought about it for a moment. 

"I don't know," he said honestly, because being honest with Darcy was easier than he'd like it to be. 

"I don't think you can," she said sadly. "You were raised knowing you were going to save people. You've learned that in the past months too. Saving people is what you do now. You don't need to validate your existence, because you already have."

Darcy kissed him on the lips briefly, and then got up. 

"C'mon. We've gotta shower before we go see my mom, because frankly, I'm pretty sure I look like shit."

"You never do," Bucky said, but got himself dragged out of the couch to shower anyways.

\---

Emma gawked up at the huge manor once again after school that day. Alfred had picked them up this time, in a black, old and expensive car, and Damian led her into the, by now, familiar foyer. 

She still marveled a little at how huge and old it was, massive like a resting beast and morosely beautiful like a mausoleum.

As they passed the wooden opening that lead to one of the many sitting rooms, Emma heard Jason's familiar dark chuckle, accompanied by Dick's joyous laughter. She was about to peek in to say hi, when Damian grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away from it.

And waaaay too close to him, absolutely no room for Jesus in between them. 

Their clasped hands ended up between their chests as Damian pulled her close, shaking his head silently at her. 

"We'd never make it out alive," he said quickly and seriously, managing to keep his tone silent and yet insistent. Emma raised her eyebrows, but let herself be led away from the opening and deeper into the manor. 

Damian still hadn't let go of her hand. Emma didn't mind it. 

They reached his room, and he closed the door behind them as Emma flopped down on his bed with a groan. 

"Your bed is so huge," she sighed. "Doesn't it get cold?" 

"Not usually," he said and put his heavy bookbag down on his big desk. Emma watched as he settled on his chair like it was a throne, leaning forward on his elbows as he stared intently at his English homework.

"Because of Titus?" Emma asked, and Damian nodded absently. 

"I'm also very hotblooded. I'm constantly warm."

"That must be useful. My feet and my hands always feel cold," Emma said distantly as she rolled over on Damian's bed, looking out through the windows and watching Titus run around in the huge backyard. Bruce's imposing figure was sitting by a table nearby and reading something on a tablet.

Glancing over at Damian's nightstand, she saw a glass of water, a pencil, a rectangular piece of coal, and a sketchbook with a brown cover. Intrigued, Emma crawled over the bed towards it. 

"What's this?" Emma asked as she opened it. There was a dedication in a fine print on the first, blank page. It said " _For when you want to draw again. You know where to find me if you need lessons ~Clark_ " Who the hell was Clark anyways?

Damian was out of his chair in a second, on the bed and reaching for the book. 

"It's my sketch book," Damian said calmly, even though he looked anything but calm. Emma pressed her foot into his stomach to keep him away as she flipped to the next page.

She stared, her eyes wide, as she took in the detailed image of a fist and an outstretched hand right next to each other. They were simple, easy lines making a breathtaking image. Damian was holding her foot as she kept pushing him away with it, but he watched with nervous anticipation as she flipped the page carefully to not smudge anything.

"Wow," Emma gasped as she skimmed through the pages. Alfred sipping a cup, Titus standing proud and tall, several birds and flowers. Beautiful tiny little sketches all over the place, a drawing of Dick mid-cartwheel in a corner...

And herself. 

There was a page with just her on it, smiling and with a crown of flowers in her hair, pencil lines drawn carefully. Her hair looked as wavy as it usually did, her shoulders covered by a shirt. The only things that had been colored were her eyes. Green, gray, blue, some white mixed into it. Her shoulders were relaxed, her smile easy, and it was kind of stunning how Damian had made her look to alive, even just on paper. 

"Holy shit," she exclaimed eloquently. "Dami, this is beautiful." Damian puffed his chest out a little with pride, a smirk taking over his lips for a moment, before it was back to his usual scowl. 

"I know. Now hand it over."

"No way, dude, gimme a moment to take it in," she breathed, staring down on the shape of her face looking back at her, the smile on her face. He'd even put light freckles all over her cheeks and nose, and she traced the edge of one of the roses on her thorned crown. "This is amazing. I had no idea you could draw like this."

Emma looked up to meet his eyes, and he shrugged. 

"It's a hidden talent."

"I bet you can play some kind of instrument too," Emma said and flipped the page to Jason smoking a cigarette, the smoke drifting upwards. 

"Violin," he said blankly, and she grinned. 

"Thought so. You're so artsy, Dames." He snorted. 

"Hardly. Hand it over."

"Fight me for it," she said, and closed the book just as Damian lunged at her.

In a split second she had the sketchbook on the floor, and was braced for Damian's attack, letting him grab her wrists as she rolled them over on his huge bed. He wrapped his one leg around hers for leverage, and rolled them again, pinning her hands down against his pillow. She managed to press him backwards using pure strength, and Damian yelped in surprise as he was pressed down on his back, their roles now reversed.

They grappled over the bed until he finally caught her wrists again, both of them gasping for breath with laughter. He was smiling brightly and his eyes were sparkling down at her. She smiled back at him, mischievous and sharp. 

"I give," she said, almost a whisper in the too-big room. Damian's look shifted from her eyes to her hands, and released them, but instead of pulling back, like she thought he would do, he placed his hands on the covers next to her shoulders. 

Watching as his Adams apple bobbed when he swallowed, Emma instinctively copied the motion, swallowing and looking up at Damian's face. 

It was a nice face. Cheekbones appearing that she knew would be able to cut glass when they were finally revealed completely. Blue eyes that had tiny hidden specks of green and brown in them. A very appealing mouth, thin-lipped and pale but with an impressive Cupid's bow. She loved the way those lips curled when he grinned.

Damian watched her right back, eyes following her heart-shaped face and the freckles dusted over her nose and cheeks. The way her red eyelashes looked like in the tiny shreds of sunlight slipping through the cracks in the curtains. How her nose was incredibly straight and the gentle curve of her jaw.

"Hi there," Emma said, disliking just how breathless she sounded, and how stupid those two words had been. Damian's contemplative face morphed into the silently amused one, and the corner of his mouth twitched. 

"Hi," he replied, his voice sounding a little hoarser than it usually did. Emma licked her lips without thought, and immediately, Damian's watchful eyes followed the motion. 

Carefully, as if testing boundaries, he leaned down from his high perch on his arms like he was doing a push up, and ghosted his lips over hers. Emma sucked in a gasp, and he did it again, just a little harder this time. 

One of her now free hands hesitantly slipped up the nape of his neck, running her hand through the hair on the back of his head. Damian pulled back just a little, just to look at her. 

"What is it with you and my hair?" Damian murmured, seemingly undisturbed by it but still befuddled. Emma laughed quietly. 

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, your hair is nice." She ran her nails lightly against his scalp, and Damian's eyelids fluttered, fanning his eyelashes over his cheeks. 

The polite knock on the door sent them darting apart, nearly slamming into each other as they did. Emma shoved Damian off the bed as the door opened, and he fell onto the floor with a thud as Alfred entered. 

"Shit, sorry," Emma exclaimed as she peeked over the edge at Damian, who was laying on the floor, his eyes narrowed at her.

"Is everything alright in here?" Alfred asked, one gray eyebrow rising as he looked between the two teens. Emma shot a sheepish smile at Damian, who only narrowed his eyes further. 

"Yes, Pennyworth, stop being a mother hen," he said through gritted teeth as he sat up. 

"Very well, Master Damian," Alfred said critically. He was holding a tray with two small cups of tea and a plate of biscuits in his hand. "I imagine you would like a snack?"

"Thanks Alfred," Emma blushed as Damian pushed himself off the floor gracefully. 

When Alfred left and closed the door, Emma started laughing, and Damian rolled his eyes before joining in. They sat on the floor and sipped their tea as they did homework together, toes pressed to toes and ankles intertwined.

\---


	69. Weddings And Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. This ride is officially over, after 69 chapters, over 270 000 words, and a year and two months and eleven days. To all you amazing readers out there who have cheered me on, commented, liked, or even just read, a huge thank you. Also a huge thank you to my muses who have finally started speaking to me again.  
> This WILL become a series. I can't stay away. There will be more family moments, more Emian, more Bucky/Darcy, more Clintasha, and more Stony. I've written more things that I'll start posting soon.  
> Anyway...  
> Enjoy! <3 <3 <3 <3

 

"Invitations! Save the date!" Tony called as he walked out from the elevator, a stack of envelopes in his hand. Steve walked out behind him, smiling widely. 

They were all sitting in the kitchen, all still in pj's and sleepy. It was ten am on a Saturday, and Emma was sitting on the kitchen island next to Bucky. His hair was up, he wasn't wearing a shirt, and he looked more relaxed than he had in a year. 

Steve felt warmth engulf his being at the way Bucky sourly sipped his coffee as Emma patted his stubbled cheek. 

"Brucie-Bear! Miss Widow! Birdguy whose name nobody knows!" Tony exclaimed, handing invitations out as he went. 

"Very funny, Iron Ass," Clint shot back as he snatched his invitation out of his hand. 

"God of Thunder! Bifrost gal! Tazer-goddess!" he went on as if Clint hadn't said anything.

"I'm very pleased with my nickname," Darcy said smugly as she plucked her envelope from Tony's grasp.

"Sunshine raccoon! Aaand, last and shortest, but certainly not least, our own little pretty bomb."

"I'm not sure if I take that as a compliment, honestly," Emma said with a snort as she opened the envelope. 

The invitation was white with gold linings, simple text telling her that the wedding was to commence on top of the Avengers Tower, on June 21st.

"Is this a plus one invite?" Emma asked. Tony wiggled his eyebrows. 

"Who do you wanna bring?" he asked.

"Damian," she shrugged. "You'll all be busy being adults and making out and mingling. I need someone to mingle with too, and not be bored. I'll probably need someone to hold me when I cry as well, because I just know your wedding is going to be beautiful."

"Ah. _Damian_ ," Tony said, and Emma threw an apple at him. Tony laughed as Steve caught it right before it bonked him on the forehead. 

"No super-strength throwing in the kitchen," he said automatically, and Emma stuck her tongue out at Tony. 

"Oh, you are just cute as a button," he snickered as he took the apple out of Steve's hand and took a bite out of it. Steve dragged Tony to his chest almost instinctively.

"So..." Darcy said with a smile over her cup of coffee. She quirked a dark eyebrow. "What's the deal with Damian? D'ya like him?"

"He's one of my best friends. So, I mean. I kinda have to like him, even though he's kinda an asshole," Emma said. Natasha smiled softly as she watched Emma lift Bucky's arm and crawl into his lap. Bucky only shifted his coffeemug to his other hand, and held it above his head until she'd settled. 

"Have you ever kissed since Christmas?" Darcy asked. 

"What does that have to do with anything?" Emma asked, accidentally sounding defensive. 

"You have?" Bucky asked, looking mildly surprised. 

"What? No!" Emma looked up at Bucky with wide eyes, and his eyebrows raised further.

"How many times?" Clint asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

"I'm regretting my decision to bring him," she told them. 

"Eh, bring him. I could use the opportunity to mangle the little brat about his dad's next move," Tony said and offered Steve a bite of the apple. 

"Damian ran the company for a while when he was ten, apparently," Emma said with a shrug, kicking her feet on the countertop. "He probably won't let you get anything from him."

"He ran a company. At ten years old," Darcy said blankly. Emma nodded. "What the hell kind of robot are you dating, Em?"

"We're not dating," Emma pointed out. 

"You kinda are," Jane said with a cute wrinkle of the nose. 

"What with the whole... Going to galas, kissing, having dinner with his entire family two days ago... You're dating," Bruce spoke up with an affirmative nod.

"Jason left before dinner and his mom wasn't there, so you can't really consider it entire, also I hadn't met his sister yet," Emma said with a waggle of her finger. 

"And he wanted you to meet her. Because he likes her," Tony pressed.

"Well, he's kinda awed by her, which is impressive, considering it's Damian," Emma said with a fond eyeroll. 

"Ah, young love," Tony sighed. "So rare these days."

"Hey, we're young," Darcy protested, waving towards Bucky. 

"I'm ninety-seven. Speak for yourself," Bucky smirked at Darcy, and she smirked back. 

"Well, I can guarantee you that you certainly look and feel very young," she said and blew him a kiss. Bucky chuckled as Natasha rolled her eyes, and Clint swung an arm over her shoulder.

"Minor!" Emma proclaimed loudly. "Minor in the room!"

"We know, we know," Darcy laughed. 

"Ick," Emma said and fumbled for her phone as she slipped off the counter. "I'll need to get a new dress, I'll have to call Pepper..." Her voice trailed off when she entered the next room, undoubtedly relaying even more things she needed to do to no-one in particular.

"With that attitude, you guys are gonna be spared of having The Talk for another while," Darcy smirked as soon as Emma was out of earshot. Bucky slid down from the counter with a frown on his face. 

"Oh shit," Clint mumbled dazedly to himself. 

"You hadn't thought about that?" Bruce asked incredulously. Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. 

"She turns fourteen in a couple of weeks," she realized. 

"Oh shit!" Clint said, louder this time.

"Good luck with that one," Tony said grimly. Clint groaned. 

\---

"So how was meeting Darcy's mom?" Emma asked as she flipped through the magazine Pepper had had one of her assistants bring her. It was filled with dresses, flowery and lace and silky, and Emma had no clue which one to pick. She'd brought along her trusty partner in crime because her family still didn't think she was old enough to be out alone. 

"Weird," Bucky replied as he shifted on the modern couch. Pepper's whole office was modern, but there was something about the couch that just screamed modern and uncomfortable. Pepper would be getting back from her honeymoon in three days, but Emma didn't exactly _have_ three days, seeing as she had to get Damian things to match hers.

"Weird how?" Emma asked as she pointed to a dress with a raised eyebrow. Bucky wrinkled his nose, and Emma sighed, flipping the page. 

"She seemed to... Like me."

"Whoaah, can't imagine anyone ever doing that," Emma grinned up at him, and Bucky scoffed softly. 

"I'm not sure I'm good for Darcy. I've got a shit-ton of baggage, can barely even take care of myself, and a psyche that would make Freud froth at the mouth."

"Reading that book Steve let you borrow?" she asked with a hum, and Bucky shrugged. 

"Got some free-time."

"Maybe you should get a job," she suggested. 

"Sounds terrible." Emma laughed. 

"Being an adult is terrible. You should probably get used to that."

"Ugh," he grunted. 

"Yeah. I'm pretty happy that I'm small enough that I don't have to learn how to be an adult just yet. Honestly, I don't see why Darcy's mom wouldn't like you. You're kinda intimidating, but if Darcy's mom is anything like Darcy, that wouldn't freak her out. You're also surprisingly gentle for your size, and a gentleman." Emma flipped the page to a purple dress that swept all the way down to the ankles, with spaghetti straps and slit in the long skirt for a leg to peek out. "Kate would probably like this one."

"She likes purple," Bucky nodded absently. "But I'm a terrible choice for Darcy."

"Has Darcy said so?" Emma asked with both eyebrows high on her forehead. Bucky met her green-blue-grey stare, and hesitated. Emma's eyebrows retreated to their normal position. "That's what I thought. And you trust Darcy's decision making, right?"

"Yeah..." he muttered, and Emma beamed. 

"Exactly. But her mom seemed to like you too, huh?"

"Yeah. She was...friendly."

"Was Darcy surprised that her mom liked you?" 

"No," Bucky replied. "She just seemed pleased."

"Huh. So you've gotten off on a good foot with her parents. Look at you go! Almost socially functioning! I'm so proud of you." Bucky dragged her into his side with a not-quite smile, and Emma flipped to the next page. 

The dress was periwinkle blue, down to the model's mid-thigh, with a frill to the edges of the skirt. Just where the waist began, tiny flowers seemed to grow like a v upwards, getting sparser on gossamer fabric as the edges of the v merged into arms. The dress had a boat neckline and the back was covered in the same sparse flower pattern, and Emma's eyes widened. 

"Yes," Bucky nodded as she looked up at him. 

"You know you're gonna have to wear a real good tux, right?"

"I'd rather not, but Darcy and Stevie convinced me."

"If you get married," Emma said as she stood up with the magazine clutched tightly in her hand, "promise me I get to be the best man."

"Obviously," Bucky said, seemingly offended she'd ever think otherwise. Emma grinned and slapped the magazine on one of Pepper's assistant's desks. "That one, please."

\---

Emma listened to Layla talking about going to the pool, and kicked Damian under the table. His eyes narrowed at her as he looked up, and she smiled.

"Hey, wanna go to a wedding with me on the twenty-first?" Damian raised an eyebrow. "C'mon. My parents will be busy being adults, and Bucky will be busy trying to keep Steve clothed all evening. It'll be just you and me."

"As a date?" he asked mockingly, and Emma shrugged. 

"Whatever you wanna call it."

"Dates are silly. Distracting," he said.

"Distracting from what?" Emma asked with laughter in her voice. "Distracting you from school? Because then you really suck at keeping your head in the game, and I know you're a whole lot smarter than that."

"No. They're distracting," he said firmly. 

"Says who? 'Cause I don't think your dad is the go-to for asking those questions. And Dick has too much love to spare to never date. Jason is just too Jason, and Tim... I'm pretty sure Tim is seeing someone."

"What?" Damian blanked. 

"You didn't know? Seriously? Wow. I'm shocked. You're so observant, I just thought you knew," she said, absolutely baffled. Damian was always pointing things out she never would've noticed, and he hadn't noticed Tim on his phone all dinner? 

"Are you sure?" he asked contemplatively as he leaned back. Emma shrugged. 

"Sure looked like it."

"Interesting," Damian said with an evil smile, and Emma was just gonna kick him under the table and chastise him, when a blonde footballplayer came up behind them, already blushing prettily. 

"Um, hi Layla," he said and smiled crookedly. The boy Layla was crushing on, standing right behind Damian, and Emma had to admit, close up and blushing, he was pretty. They would've made beautiful, athletic babies. Layla's eyes went wide and she cut off mid-sentence.

"Aaron," she replied, sounding as shocked as the rest of the table felt. 

"Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone?" he said awkwardly, and motioned away from the table. Layla nodded quickly and stood up gracefully, sliding out from the table and walking away with him. 

"My, my, my," Hope said as she slid closer to the ends of the table, where Emma and Damian were still recovering from their shock. "The footballplayer makes a move."

"I had no clue his name was Aaron," TJ said as he too came closer to watch the two standing by the water fountain. Layla laughed, and Aaron flashed that crooked smile again. 

"Well I'll be damned," Emma said with a wiggle of her eyebrows. "Is our very own Cupid hit by the arrow of love?" Layla tilted her head and whipped her phone out as Aaron did the same. 

"Oh my god, it looks like it!" Hope whispered excitedly. 

"Aaron is a stupid name," Damian said with a scowl, and Emma grabbed his hand to shut him up. 

"Let's just bask in the glory of Layla getting a boyfriend, alright?" she suggested without looking away from the striking sight of Layla and Aaron giving each other's phones back. 

Layla said something funny, and Aaron laughed this time as he blushed, Layla blushing along with him. They parted, and Layla walked back to their table with a spring in her step. Nobody pretended that they hadn't just watched the whole exchange intensely. 

"Holy shit," Emma said as Layla sat down next to her again. 

"He asked me out on a date," she grinned widely. Hope high-fived her.

"Good for you, my friend. Speaking of dates," Emma said, raising an eyebrow at Damian pointedly. He rolled his eyes. 

"Fine. I'll be your date," he replied as his cheeks flushed. Emma grinned. 

"Awesome."

"My day has been made twice!" Layla crowed. "Now kiss." 

Damian shot her a look, and shrugged cockily, leaning over the table to grab Emma by the chin and kiss her. The jaws at the table dropped, and Emma stroked a distracted thumb over his cheekbone before he pulled back.

Emma sipped her drink and Damian took a bite of his sandwich as the three teens gathered their bearings.

"You're just gonna act like that wasn't the biggest deal ever?!" Layla exclaimed. 

"We've done it a couple of times before," Emma shrugged. Hope's eyes widened in shock. 

"What?! And not told us?" she asked incredulously. "How many times?"

"Um..." Emma counted on her fingers. "Three times? Four?"

"Four," Damian nodded. Layla sputtered, and Emma tapped a finger to her chin. 

"I was going to tell you that time we went ice skating, but then Damian showed up and I forgot all about it."

"I'm shocked but too happy to be angry," Layla said and held a finger up. "Expect me to be angry when I'm off the high that Aaron left behind."

"Let's actually focus on that, what did he say, word for word," Emma demanded, and Hope nodded as she leaned in. Layla blushed, and Emma punched her in the arm. "You really like him!"

"He was really sweet," she said softly. 

"Ah, young love," Emma said, feeling like Tony, and Layla raised an eyebrow at her. 

"I'm older than you," she pointed out. 

"What? No way, when's your birthday?"

"June 30th," Layla replied. Emma blinked. 

"Damn. I was so sure I was older than you."

"Ha! Nope, kiddo," Layla smiled brightly. 

"I'm less than a month younger than you," Emma argued. 

"When's your birthday then?" Layla asked.

"July 21st," Damian said. Emma blinked. 

"What he said," she said. "BT dubs, I'll send you a picture of my dress so you'll know what to wear to the wedding." 

"Good. Where is the wedding taking place?" he asked as he pulled his phone out, probably to check his calendar. Emma smiled. 

"On top of the tower, obviously."

\---

The day Pepper came back, she was immediately diving into the wedding preparations, and Emma walked into the kitchen several mornings just to see Wasp, _Wasp_ , sitting by the kitchen table next to Pepper and in front of Tony and Steve, hammering out the last of the details. 

The first time it had happened had been the sixteenth of June, and Emma almost tripped on her face as she watched with large eyes the animated woman talking about flowers of different kinds. 

"Holy shit!" she'd exclaimed, and they'd all turned to look at her, equal parts bewildered and confused. "You're the Wasp!" Wasp laughed, and tilted her head to the side. 

"And you are?" she asked kindly. 

"That other adopted kid," she said, waving towards Peter who was seated in Steve's lap. Janet turned wide eyes on Tony, who held a hand up. 

"We're not legally responsible for that one, just this one," he promised. Clint came in from the kitchen with cereal, and Tony pointed to him. "He's responsible for that one."

"Responsible? Sounds bad, what am I responsible for?" Clint said as he swallowed his cereal. 

"Me," Emma said, and he shot her a smile. 

"It lives! It's saturday, I thought you wouldn't be up for at least another two hours," Clint smirked and held a hand out. Emma took it and was pulled into a one-armed hug. 

"Sleep is boring," she told him. 

"Oh, it's one of those weekends, huh," he chuckled. He turned to Janet. "This one is mine and Natasha's."

"You didn't feel like this was something you needed to tell me when we said hi earlier?" Janet asked incredulously. 

"We did a whole press announcement thing, I thought you knew!" he accused. Janet raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, that was almost a year ago."

"What?" Emma and Clint said unanimously. Janet smiled wryly. 

"You haven't kept track?" Emma looked up at Clint. 

"I've been here for over a year," she said, sounding awed. Clint stared down at her, seemingly equally surprised. 

"Crap, we missed your anniversary!" he exclaimed, aghast, shooing Emma towards the kitchen. "You grab something to eat, I'll find your mom and we'll do something fun, like go to the park or something."

"That sounds awesome," Emma agreed as she opened the freezer for some waffles. Clint kissed the top of her head and put his dishes in the sink before he jumped up on the kitchen island and hoisted himself into the vent. 

"Is that normal around here?" Janet asked, and Tony sighed. 

"I had to make the vents bigger when Barton moved in, and he recruited the tinier Barton to do it too, and since she does it, Bucky does it," he complained with an eyeroll.

"Bucky? The Winter Soldier, Bucky? The best man, Bucky?" Janet inquired with raised eyebrows as she tapped the tablet in front of her. Steve nodded.

"He's my best friend," Emma confirmed as she stuffed a waffle into her mouth.

"We thought it was weird too, but they get along weirdly great, so we've just left them to do their thing," Tony shrugged. 

"Huh," Janet hummed. 

"What flowers for the arch?" Pepper asked distractedly as she tapped away on her tablet. "Hydrangea or lilies?"

There's a flower starting with Hydra that you want us to have on our wedding?" Steve asked incredulously. Pepper looked up, a little wide-eyed. 

"They're very beautiful, if it's going to sway your decision," she said, flipping the tablet over to show them. 

"Damn Hydra, taking the fun out of a beautiful flower," Tony grumbled. 

"These flowers are really gorgeous," Steve pointed out, and Peter made a happy noise from behind his pacifier. Both parents looked down on him with a smile. 

"Peter thinks you should take them," Janet nodded. "I think your son has very good taste."

"He gets that from me," Tony said, and Steve laughed as he threw his arm over Tony's shoulders.

"I have pretty good taste too, y'know," he said and kissed Tony on the cheek. "Seeing as I'm marrying you."

"D'aw, you're so cute I'm gonna puke," Emma said as she sat down by the kitchen island to eat her breakfast. 

"If you're gonna gush about each other, I'm gonna grab some coffee," Janet said with a smile and a shake of the head, and stood up. As the soon-to-be superhusbands and Pepper started talking about something else, Janet leaned against the kitchen island, looking at Emma as she bit into her waffles viciously. 

Blue eyes met green-blue-grey, and Emma tilted her head at her in question. 

"So, how's having two super spies as parents going for you?" Jan asked curiously. "Are they overprotective?"

"Maybe a little. They've put trackers in all my shoes," Emma shrugged. 

"That sounds a teeny-weeny bit overprotective," Janet pointed out, and Emma bit into her poptart. 

"Weeell, it probably has to do with that time I was kidnapped and it took them like four days to find me. They've been a little antsy since that."

"Was it one of their old enemies?" Jan asked worriedly. Emma shook her head. 

"Nah. One of my old ones. He's locked up now though. He can't hurt me anymore," she said resolutely, and took another angry bite out of the waffle. Janet got that pained look on her face that Emma hated, and she groaned through her waffle. "Do all superheroes have guilt complexes and feel like they need to save every single person who has ever been harmed?"

Janet shrugged. "Pretty much."

Emma rolled her eyes. 

"That's why I'm not going to become a superhero," she declared. Janet smiled. 

"No?"

"Nope." Emma shook her head. 

"That's good," Janet promised her. "Don't let family pressure you into doing anything."

"Well they don't want me to become a superhero either, actually." Emma drank her milk as Janet's eyebrows shot up. 

"Really? Well if they're reasonably overprotective like that, they probably wouldn't want you to," Janet conceded. 

"It just feels like too much responsibility, plus, some mutant already has the cool name I wanted to use as a superhero, so then it just seems like too much hassle," Emma shrugged.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and Natasha stepped out, with Clint behind her. Natasha was dressed in a leather jacket and thin hoodie, looking ready to leave already, and Clint was pulling a t-shirt over his head as they stepped out. Natasha handed him his jacket and he swung it over his shoulders. 

"Ready to go, возлюбленный?" Natasha asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

Emma shoved the last of her waffle into her mouth as she nodded furiously, and Clint chuckled. 

"Slow down, kiddo, you've still gotta go change. We've got time," he said soothingly, and Emma jumped up on the kitchen island. 

"I'm done! I'll grab some real pants and we'll go!" she exclaimed happily, disappearing into the vents as Natasha took the glass of milk still on the kitchen island, drinking the last of it. 

"Hi Natasha," Jan said happily. 

"Hello Jan," Natasha replied and offered the other woman a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm great, planning weddings is one of my favorite things to do," she said pleasantly. Clint knew how much Natasha disliked small talk, so he launched into a discussion with Jan about what was acceptable to wear at a wedding and not, until Emma dropped down from the vent again.

Now in purple chucks and a grey t-shirt that said 'feminist', Emma looked very comfortable and confident as she put her hands on her hips and beamed at her parents. 

"C'mon, guys, let's go!"

\---

Donning sunglasses and caps, the two agents watched Emma running around on the grass with Lucky, licking their ice cream cones. 

"This was a good idea," Natasha declared, and Clint grinned. 

"I know. I'm the plan-master."

"Your plans are usually haphazard, but this one was good."

"What do you mean, haphazard? My plans are amazing!"

"Like that time in Riyadh?" she asked with a small smirk, and Clint rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. 

"Why do you always have to bring Riyadh up?"

"Because that was a terrible terrible plan."

"Hey, you went along with it," Clint accused.

"So you wouldn't get yourself killed," Natasha said with an eyeroll. Clint licked his ice cream and shook his head fondly at her. 

"Aw, you love me and my stupid plans," he said. 

"Don't push it," Natasha said, but slid closer to him on the bench. 

"Hey dad, think fast!" Emma yelled, and Natasha looked up just in time to see what was being launched at them, and pull down Clint to duck. 

"Holy shit, Em, you can't go around launching baseballs on people without a glove on!" Clint exclaimed as he sat back up, and Emma stared, wide-eyed, as Natasha picked the baseball up from the ground behind the bench. "Here, give me that."

Clint ate the last of his cone and took the ratty old baseball out of Natasha's hand as he walked towards his daughter and Lucky. 

"See, this thing is hard," he explained to her, knocking on it with a knuckle to demonstrate. "It hurts like hell to get this thrown at you, which is why all baseballplayers have gloves. You have one of them, right?"

"Well yeah, but we only threw fruit around," Emma said, furrowing her eyebrows as she thought back to the sleepover she'd been at during New Years. 

"Yeah, see, this is a whole lot harder than like an apple," Clint began, and Natasha watched from the bench as Clint explained just why Emma shouldn't throw so hard, and definitely not like she had. She watched as Clint showed her just how to throw, and as Lucky caught the ball and ran back with to Clint and Emma. 

She watched the two people in this world she'd come to rely on the most play together, and Natasha had to cross her arms over her chest to stop her heart from bursting out of her chest, as it filled to the brim with love. 

\---

When they returned to the tower, Janet had gone home, and Pepper was in her office. Bruce was in his lab with Jane, Tony and Steve had taken Peter for a walk in the sunny weather, and Bucky was sitting in the kitchen, reading the evening newspaper. 

Emma immediately took off for their floor to get new jeans, because hers were grass-stained, but Clint and Natasha went to the common floor. 

"I'm gonna crash in the couch as soon as I see it," Clint declared as he leaned against the glass inside of the elevator. 

"Playing with Emma got you winded?" Natasha asked and flicked an eyebrow at him. 

"Well, no," Clint said petulantly. "It was just a tiring day." Natasha laughed quietly. 

"You're getting old, Barton." He gasped, grasping his heart in pain. 

"Am not!"

"Maybe just a little," she said, and Clint grabbed her from behind, pulling her into his chest and nosing along her neck.

"Am not," he growled into her neck, and Natasha felt a shiver of pleasure run down her spine as he delivered a soft kiss to her neck. She grasped his hands in hers and tipped her head back to allow him more space to kiss. 

"Mm. Not that old," she hummed, and Clint delivered a playful bite to her neck for that. 

"I'm still young enough to get you in bed, right?" he said, and Natasha's one hand moved from his hand to his neck, running her fingers through the short strands there. 

"Absolutely."

"That's all I care about, then," he said. The doors slid open, and Clint let her go, only to swat her on the ass as he exited the elevator. Natasha retaliated with a slap of her own as he dashed over to the other side of the kitchen island. 

"You're both childish," Bucky told them without looking up from the newspaper. "Also, you're in the newspaper." Bucky slapped the evening times down on the counter, and Natasha's eyes widened. She snapped it up and groaned quietly as she read. 

"Fuck," she ground out. "Goddamn paparazzi."

"On the bright side, you're surprisingly photogenic," Bucky said blankly, and Natasha swatted after him with the newspaper as he dodged it. 

"пизда," she snapped at him, and he chuckled. Clint rounded the kitchen island. 

"You have a dirty mouth," he chuckled. "What's brought it out?" Natasha wordlessly handed him the newspaper. He stared at the picture for a few seconds, and then said, eloquently enough, "Well fuck."

"What's with all the cursing? It's pretty much me and Tony that make up for the amount of cursing in this household," came Emma's voice from above. The grate from the vent popped, and Emma slipped down through it, landing like a cat on the kitchen island. 

"You're famous," Bucky told her, and Emma's eyes widened. 

"Oh no!" she exclaimed and made grabby hands for the paper Clint was still holding in his hand. He gave it to her, and she saw the picture, wide-eyed shock overtaking her features. "Goddammit! I was content with being taller and blond!" Her eyes widened impossibly further. "Fuck! Can I have someone's phone?"

"Why?" Clint asked as he handed her his. 

"I've been in a tabloid with Damian, and if people don't see the connection, they're pretty goddamn stupid," she said as she dialed a number. Three rings, and warily, a familiar voice picked up. "Damian!"

"I've seen it, Barton," Damian assured her as soon as he recognized her voice. 

"What're we gonna do?" she asked worriedly. Damian's amused laughter filled the phone, and Emma felt her shoulders relax a little at the sound. It wasn't familiar per se, but it was still comforting.

"Nothing," he sighed into the receiver, still sounding very amused. "If the piranhas ask, we deny even knowing of each other's existence."

"Sounds like a plan," Emma said with a shrug. 

"Whose phone are you calling me from?" he asked curiously. 

"My dad's," she said, giving the adults now talking about the article around her a glance. 

"Ah. Hang up. I'll call your phone," he said, in that tone laced with extreme seriousness.

"Why?" Emma said with a quirked eyebrow.

"We need to discuss my suit, and I would hate to use your father's phone for that," he said, and Emma wrinkled her nose. He wanted her to switch to her phone for some other reason, but the way he lied made her think about his earlier serious tone, and she shrugged. 

"Alright, see you in a bit," she said, and hung up. She handed the phone back to Clint. "Thanks dad!"

"Where are you going?" Clint asked exasperatedly as Emma grabbed a hold of the vent again, hauling herself up halfway and freezing mid-air. 

"Um. My room? Damian is calling me and I need my phone," she told him, and Bucky held his metal hand out for her to boost on. "Thanks!" she called from inside the vent. 

"Anytime, doll," he said, and snatched the newspaper back. "I wasn't done with that."

\---

The day of Tony and Steve's wedding, the tower was a flurry of action. Pepper was swarming around along with Janet, who was literally swarming around, in her Wasp suit and fixing the flowers in inaccessible places. Bucky had been sticking to Steve's side like a loyal guard dog since he woke up, and Rhodey had come in the day before, so now he was sticking to Tony. Rhodey and Bucky had reached a silent agreement to keep the grooms as far away from each other as possible until the ceremony. 

That being said, both grooms had been assigned different teams to fix them for the day. The ceremony was taking place at one PM, and before that, they had tons of things they had to fix. 

Emma was on Tony's team, along with Darcy, Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey, obviously. Seeing as Emma wasn't needed until eleven, she'd woken up at ten, taken a shower and just jumped into sweats.

Now, at ten thirty, she walked into the elevator, only to stare at the four guys standing there with a woodstructure in the shape of an arch, covered in flowers. Emma stared at them all for a couple of seconds, and then she snorted as the doors closed behind her. 

"What kinds of flowers are those?" Emma asked, looking up at one of the guys.

"Hydrangea," he replied. 

"Huh, they went with that one? Good for them. Going up?" she smiled brightly. The guy nodded, and Emma cleared her throat. 

"Jarvis?"

"Yes miss?" Jarvis replied, and Emma relished in the startled looks of the guys. 

"These guys need to get to the roof and then I need some breakfast before I starve to death," she said, and Jarvis obediently guided the elevator upwards. 

As the doors opened and the guys wrestled the arch out of the elevator, Emma looked at the set-up presented on the huge roof. It was crowded with neat lines of chairs, and Pepper was standing there with a headset and a clipboard, directing the guys with the arch to put it down and secure it in front of all of the chairs.

Emma waved at Pepper, and Pepper spared her a smile and a wave back before the elevator plunged down to the common floor.

There was Bucky, sitting in between Darcy and Steve. Steve looked nervous, but still smiled at her when she greeted him. 

"Scared?" Emma asked with a smile, and Steve chuckled. 

"I'm a little scared of messing up my vows because of all the people," Steve said and blushed as he scrubbed the back of his neck absently. Emma just wanted to squish his face and tell him that everything was going to be okay when he did that. 

"If your wedding is anything like the movies, when you see him, you'll just be so stunned that you throw your rehearsed vows away and wing it, and it'll be beautiful," she promised as she brought the cereal out. Tony kept moving the box to the higher shelves, so Emma had to climb them to get to the good stuff.

"You'll remember the vows, Stevie," Bucky promised and smiled reassuringly at Steve, who nodded anxiously. "I'm pretty sure this'll be grander than any movie-weddings."

"Yeah, you guys do like to put a dramatic flare to everything," she remarked as she poured her cereal into the bright bowl. "Aren't you nervous, Bucky? What with all the people and your toast?"

Bucky shrugged.

"Rhodey and I have worked our toasts out," he said, taking a sip out of Steve's pink 'Tell me about it, stud' mug. "And it's not like I'm excited about it. I think I'll deal."

"You just have to stand there and look nice, I have to do talking and fumble with things," Steve pointed out, and Bucky clapped him on the shoulder empathetically.

"I don't envy you."

"I kinda envy you," Darcy said without looking up, and flipped the page in the newspaper. "Finally marrying the one you love? Seems like the best thing to ever happen, aside from kids." Bucky looked over at her.

"Were you one of those kids that always dreamt of marrying?" he asked her tentatively. Darcy laughed quietly.

"Nah. Never really wanted it, especially not in my college years. Back then it was fucking or nothing," she said fondly.

Then she looked up at Bucky and smirked. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna force you down the aisle anytime soon." Bucky huffed out a laugh.

"Good to know," he said, seemingly more relaxed as Darcy took his hand. Emma smiled around her spoon, and bit into the sugary cereal joyously.

This was going to be a good day.

\---

At around eleven, Emma and Darcy got into the elevator, and traveled up to Steve and Tony's floor. They picked Bruce up along the way, and got to the right floor just in time for Tony to collapse on the floor.

"Tony!" Rhodey exclaimed as he dropped to the floor next to his friend, and the other's rushed out of the elevator to reach him. Bruce dropped down next to Tony and immediately checked his pulse as everyone else stood there, holding their breath. Bruce furrowed his eyebrows.

"What happened?" he asked.

"He just fell," Rhodey said, wide-eyed. Tony groaned, and cracked an eye open.

"Oh god," he murmured. "How long was I out?"

"Approximately forty-eight seconds, give or take," Bruce said gently. "Need a minute?"

"Definitely," Tony groaned.

"Okay, what just happened?" Darcy asked, looking a little shaken.

"I'm guessing Tony just had a mild nervous break-down, and stood up at the same time, which resulted in him fainting," Bruce said, and Tony blinked both eyes open this time, slowly getting himself into a seated position.

"What he said," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Fainting sucks."

"Man, you need to chill out," Emma said, and Darcy sat down in the couch with a relieved sigh. Emma sat down on the floor, next to Tony, and urged him back down onto the floor.

"How am I supposed to chill out?! I'm getting married!" Tony exclaimed. "Me! I am getting _married_!"

"To Steve," Emma said with a nod.

"To Steve Rogers. Captain America. This is practically my childhood dream coming true, and I'm too fucking freaked out to enjoy it," he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling as if in a daze. Emma snapped her fingers right in front of his face.

"Hey, don't space out on us. Darcy didn't you have a plan or something?"

"I sure do," Darcy grinned, standing up to pull facemasks out of her sweatpants pocket. "First some of this, then some relaxing, then some make up and hair-styling, dressing, and then it's gonna be show-time. What d'ya say?"

"Sounds good," Rhodey approved.

"Take your pick," Darcy said, fanning the different masks out. Tony picked his firsts, and then Emma picked hers, and Darcy held the now crippled fan out to Rhodey.

"I'm good," he said with an awkward chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon. Sometimes, you have to treat yourself to a good facemask," Darcy coaxed. Reluctantly, Rhodey grabbed one of the masks, and Darcy smiled. "Attaboy. Bruce?"

Bruce took one without making a fuss, and they moved into Steve and Tony's massive bathroom. Darcy helped apply the masks, and Emma snickered as Rhodey's face was covered with a peachy mask. Tony thought Bruce was hilarious with the green paste all over his face, and Tony truly looked like a strawberry with pink goop all over his face. Darcy had a white facemask, and looked much paler than usual in it, and Emma's was yellow.

"We look like fruits," Tony remarked, and Emma laughed without moving her mouth. Bruce's mop of hair had been restrained using a headband, along with Emma's. Darcy looked like a pale-masked queen with her hair up, and she bit her lip to stop from laughing as they moved back out to the couches.

"What do we do now?" Tony asked without moving his lips too much.

"We wait," Darcy told him.

"Who wants to hear a science joke?" Emma declared.

"I sure do," Tony said.

"Bruce, you know this one, so don't say anything," she said, pointing an accusing finger his way. He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright. A photon checks into a hotel and is asked if he needs any help with his luggage. 'No thanks,' he says. 'I'm traveling light'."

Tony made a very unattractive snorting noise and closed his eyes as his body shook with silent laughter. Emma restrained herself from grinning, and Bruce chuckled without moving his mouth, an impressive feat.

They spent the rest of the time it took for the masks to dry trying to crack each other's masks with jokes.

At around a quarter to twelve, Pepper stepped out of the elevator, and everyone's heads turned simultaneously to stare at her. Pepper jumped, an impressive feat in her high heels, and burst out laughing.

"Oh god, it's like I've walked into a vegetable garden," she exclaimed.

"I'm a banana, which means I'm a berry, not a vegetable," Emma announced.

"I'm a strawberry," Tony said very seriously.

"Which isn't actually a berry, but an aggregate fruit," Emma filled in. Pepper chuckled.

"You all seem remotely relaxed," she said approvingly.

"We are, surprisingly," Tony replied, looking very pleased with himself. "I've fainted, but I'm good now, thanks to Lewis magical masks."

"They're amazing," Darcy said and winked at him. Her watch beeped, and she hummed. "Alright guys, let's get these off."

They walked back into the bathroom, Pepper following as a curious observer, and Darcy grinned at the mirror, making her mask crack.

"Can we do that too?" Emma asked curiously.

"Go ahead, it'll feel better," Darcy smirked. Excitedly, everyone began making faces, and the masks began to crumble. Pepper snickered and Tony blew her a kiss from across the room.

When everyone had washed their faces off, Rhodey felt his face.

"Damn, my skin is smooth," he murmured to himself, and Darcy whipped a hand out.

"See? Not so bad. Now we have to moisturize," she said, pulling a tube of creme out of seemingly nowhere.

When all faces were moisturized, Pepper lead them into the little living room on Steve and Tony's floor, back to the couches.

"All of your tuxes and dresses are on their way up," Pepper promised as she pulled a heavy duty make-up bag out from the entrance of the elevator. She planted it on the table, and opened it. Darcy wolf-whistled.

"I'd love me one of these," she said with big eyes.

"It's nice, right?" Pepper agreed, smiling widely. "Now, we'll do Rhodey first, because he needs the least make-up."

"Thank you?" Rhodey questioned, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.

"You're welcome," Pepper smiled.

"Am I gonna wear make up too?" Emma asked, wide-eyed.

"I'd love to put some blush on you, because you have killer cheekbones," Darcy said, grabbing Emma's chin gently and turning her head to get a good look at her. "And you'd probably rock winged eye-liner. Do you have liquid, Pep?"

"I sure do," Pepper acknowledged.

"Awesome," Emma grinned.

"Jarvis, let's hear some Girls Just Want To Have Fun," Darcy said happily. "We'll need motivational music."

"Of course, Miss Lewis," Jarvis said, clearly amused.

\---

A bunch of peppy 80's love songs later, and Tony was getting his hair styled by Pepper. Rhodey had put cologne on and was currently slipping into his suit-pants. Darcy was pinning Emma's hair up in an impressively intricate bun, and her own hair was up too. Bruce was soothing Tony as best as he could, and Emma was absorbing all the anxious vibes he was sending out.

"God, Tony!" she exclaimed, and all eyes turned to her. "You're marrying the love of your life. Suck it up. It's not gonna be that bad. Steve loves you more than he loves the American way, and that's seriously saying something. You're so twitchy you're making _me_ twitchy, and I'm not even getting married!"

Tony burst out laughing, and Pepper fondly rolled her eyes.

"How about I go find Peter and bring him here?" Bruce suggested. He was also dressed sharply in a suit and with a bowtie hanging untied around his neck.

"Yes, dear god, please bring him," Tony said, gripping Bruce's arm desperately for a second. Bruce disappeared, and Darcy patted Emma's cheek to get her attention again.

"C'mon, suck your cheeks in like a fish." Emma did as told, and Darcy mimicked her face when she stroked blush on her cheekbones. "Good. See, goddamn, killer cheekbones brought into the light."

Emma giggled, and let her dot white things under her eyes.

"What's that?"

"You have these purple circles underneath your eyes, sweetheart. You oughta sleep more," Darcy said and narrowed her eyes in concentration as she spread it with her fingertips. "There. Gone."

Bruce returned with Peter on his hip, the toddler happily squealing 'mama' as soon as Tony came into view.

"He was with Steve," Bruce said as Tony practically snatched the baby out of his arms.

"Hi baby," Tony cooed softly as he kissed Peter's forehead. "How's Steve, seeing as I can't see him?"

"He looked fine. A little spooked, but fine," Bruce said comfortingly.

"And Bucky?" Darcy urged as she urged Emma to close her eyes.

"He was probably the calmest person in the room, which is a feat, considering Natasha was there," Bruce smiled.

"Mom was freaking out?" Emma asked incredulously.

"She wasn't her calm, cool self anyway."

"Why? Problems?" Pepper asked as she gave up on trying to style Tony's hair into anything resembling tidy.

"Not that I'm aware of," Bruce shrugged. Pepper nodded and grabbed her dress off the chair that it had been thrown over.

"Alright, it's now twelve-thirty. Which means the guests will start arriving. Bruce, I'm going to steal you, and then we'll go and steal Clint and Natasha and begin ushering guests upwards, alright?" Pepper declared, pointing to Bruce, who nodded.

"Oh god!" Tony said, and Peter patted his face happily, which distracted him enough for Pepper to slip away with Bruce.

"Shouldn't your date be arriving soon?" Darcy said and wiggled her eyebrows. Emma smiled, and pulled her phone out.

"He hasn't texted yet, so I'm assuming he's on the way." Darcy smiled.

"Open your mouth a little," she said, uncapping bright red lipstick. She obeyed, but recoiled as her tongue came in contact with the stick.

"Ew, lipstick tastes disgusting," Emma said distastefully, wiggling her tongue to get rid of the taste, and Darcy laughed.

"That's because you're not supposed to eat it," she said, booping her on the nose. Emma wrinkled it in response, and Darcy smiled. "Open mouth again. This way, you can claim Damian by kissing him on the cheek. This lipstick is a hassle to get off skin." Emma refrained from grinning, and waited until Darcy pulled back and made her smack her lips to speak.

"Believe me, I'm gonna mark his cheek as much as I can," she told her proudly.

\---

Darcy and Emma slipped into their dresses, and stole Peter away from a pouting Tony. Darcy took to her high heels confidently, and aided Emma in getting into her wedge heels.

"This is hard," Emma complained as she wobbled a little.

"At least you've got wedge," Darcy said, bouncing Peter a little on her hip. They walked into the elevator and traveled to the top floor, where tons of guests were gathered.

Darcy walked off to find Jane and dump Peter on Thor, and Emma just stood there, taking in the atmosphere, the soft, warm breeze. She was so absorbed in watching that she only noticed someone coming up behind her when her eyes were covered.

"Guess who," Damian said dryly, and Emma grabbed his hands and spun around, grinning widely.

Damian was looking great in a black suit, undoubtedly warm but also very handsome. His shirt was white underneath the black, and he looked very fancy. She beamed at him, and watched his face go from smug to dazzled in a moment. 

"I know, I look absolutely gorgeous," she agreed with him. "You don't even have to say it."

"But you do look gorgeous," he said, sounding a little breathless, and Emma laughed.

"I know. Come on, let's take our seats. We're like on the first row, and I know like four of these guests," Emma said, taking Damian's hand and dragging him towards the front.

A couple of floors down, Bucky was smoothing Steve's lapels down as Steve jittered anxiously.

"You need to calm down," Bucky chuckled. "You love Stark. This is just proving it."

"In front of tons of people!" Steve exclaimed.

"I don't remember you being a wuss when you were shorter," Bucky dared him, and Steve's eyes widened.

"I don't remember you being an ass when I was shorter," Steve said, and Bucky chuckled again.

"You'll do fine," he promised him. "When even Natasha believes in you, you know you'll do fine." Steve made a very nervous noise, and Bucky sighed. "Come here punk, I'll teach you a lesson about chilling out."  
Steve laugh-squawked as Bucky grabbed him in a headlock, hand an inch above his hair when the doors to the elevator opened.

"Wait!" Pepper yelled, and Steve and Bucky froze. Pepper stomped over impressively in her high high heels. "Release the groom." Bucky slowly held his hands up, unwrapping them from Steve's neck, and Steve straightened up. Pepper finally reached them and smoothed Steve's tux down. "No roughhousing in the suits, I will end you if you ruin them already."

"Yes ma'm," Bucky and Steve said, almost instinctively, and Pepper smiled at them.

"Goodie. Now get your hides up to the ceremony, because it's about to start."

\---

And finally, there they were.

The two grooms were walked down the aisle by their best men, grinning all the same. First came Steve, and then came Tony, gathering right under the beautifully Hydrangea covered wedding arch. Behind Tony stood Rhodey, Pepper, and Bruce, all smiling gently. Behind Steve stood Bucky, Sam, and Natasha, all looking very proud and very happy.

The first row was crowded with the remaining Avengers, Jane sitting with Peter in her lap and Thor by her side, both teary-eyed already. Emma was sat on the other side of the aisle with Damian by her side, her arm hooked in his. Happy was sitting next to her, looking like he was ready to cry already, and next to him, sat Clint. 

"Dear family and friends. We have gathered here today to witness the union of two wonderful souls," the small, old priest began. "Anthony Edward Stark, and Steven Grant Rogers. We know them as heroes, as Iron Man and Captain America. We know them as the people they are. Generous. Kind. Loving." She smiled, and Pepper wiped her eyes, biting her lip. 

"We have gathered to hear two lovers vow eternal love for each other. The grooms have written their own vows," the priest said, looking over at Tony, who nodded nervously. He grabbed Steve's hands in his, and Steve smiled at Tony, sweetly. The tension seemed to melt out of Tony. 

"I've always loved Captain America," he began slowly. He laughed, a wet laugh that made Steve smile brightly in return at him, tearing up as well. "I mean, always. You've been in my life since I was born. I spent my teenage years thinking that you were the coolest person in the world. I know better now. You're the biggest dork I've ever met." Steve laughed quietly, and Tony swallowed before he continued. "I had this twisted view of you as perfect when I met you for the first time. I was arrogant, and a little rude, and a little me, and at first, that ticked you off. I don't blame you. Before you, I was a complete jackass. You've made me into a better person. Because of you, I wake up every day feeling good about myself. You make me want to become a better person. You make me want to make the world a better place. You're _everything_ to me, Steve. I don't want to live without you, and after this, I won't ever have to. I love you so much it hurts." 

The crowd made various noises of adoration, and someone sniffled loudly. Emma angrily wiped a tear off her cheek. Happy gave her a tissue, and she mouthed 'thanks' to him.

"Steven?" the old priest inquired, and Steve took a deep, shaky breath. 

"Tony," he began. "When I woke up in the future, I thought all was lost. I thought I would never have the same kinds of friendships I did back then, I thought I was going to spend my life in that crappy little apartment Shield loaned to me. But then you came along, and you gave me a home. You gave me a purpose, a life, friends, and soon enough you gave me what I never thought I could have again: love."

Even Bucky couldn't stop himself from getting a little misty-eyed, standing there ramrod straight as his best friend married the love of his life. Pepper outright cried, but with dignity, sniffling into a tissue where she stood behind Tony. Rhodey looked ready to cry any moment, and Sam cleared his throat discreetly to ward the tears off.

"Everything I have, I have because of you. You mean the _world_ \- scratch that, the world isn't big enough to describe it. You mean the _universe_ to me. I love you with all of my being, and I'm so happy that I'll be spending the rest of my life, however short it turns out, with you."

The old priest smiled pleasantly, and Emma wiped at her eyes carefully. Damian's hand landed on her thigh cautiously, and she looked down on it as he squeezed her bare leg gently, a reassurance. 

Darcy was sniffling loudly on the other side of the aisle, but it didn't seem to matter to Steve and Tony, who were looking into each other's eyes lovingly. 

"Rings?" the priest asked, and Bucky fished a golden ring out of his pocket as Rhodey did the same, handing them to their respective grooms. Bucky had to tap Steve's shoulder twice for him to tear his gaze off his very soon-to-be husband. 

Carefully, Steve's big hands pressed the golden band onto Tony's finger, and then Tony pressed the ring Rhodey had given him onto Steve's finger.

"By the power vested in my by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss," the priest said, smiling gently, and Steve dragged Tony into a desperate kiss as soon as the words were out of her mouth. 

The six people standing next to them released the confetti they had been clutching and confetti canons exploded around them, spraying all of the guests and the grooms in gold, red, white, and blue confetti pieces.

\---

"This is some really good cake," Emma said as she shoved another piece into her mouth. Damian hummed.

"It really is. What is it?"

"Some kind of citrus thingie with jam and vanilla thing?" Emma questioned. They were standing by one of the tables put out, watching as Tony and Steve hugged a very old woman standing next to a much younger blonder woman. Both were teary-eyed, and the old woman stroked both of their faces with a frail hand.

"Sounds strange, but is very tasty," Damian said thoughtfully. Emma tried to wet her dry mouth, and looked around, snatching a yellowish drink off a waiter's tray as he passed.

"Mm, what's this? There's so many new things to try around here," Emma proclaimed. She sipped her drink thoughtfully, and grimaced as she swallowed.

"Ugh, what the fuck was that? That's disgusting, get this away from me," she demanded as she handed it over to Damian, who smelled it.

"It smells like pineapple," he said thoughtfully.

"What's pineapple?" Emma asked. Damian blanked.

"You don't know what a pineapple is?" Emma just stared at him. He sighed and pulled his phone out. "Here. That's a pineapple." He showed her the image, and she tilted her head.

"I thought they were called ananas?" she muttered, seemingly confused.

"In essentially every language but English, yes. In English, it's called pineapple."

"That's stupid."

"Americans are stupid."

"We kinda are."

"Mm. You don't want this?"

"God no," Emma said with a disgusted face. 

"I'll take it," Damian shrugged, sipping it thoughtfully. He looked around. "How many of these people are _not_ superheroes?"

"Probably like... Five of them," she said with a shrug. "Steve gets attached to the nice baristas at that one coffee place he visits when he stays and chats with them. So one of them is probably here."

"That man seems too kind for his own good," Damian remarked as their looks went to the couples twirling around on the dancefloor. Her parents were one of those pairs, and Darcy and Bucky another one. Thor and Jane were twirling too, along with Pepper and Happy. Emma looked back over at Steve and Tony, and found that Peter had been reunited with his parents again. 

"It's good. Humanity needs some people to be too kind," Emma said as she saw another waiter moving forward with glasses filled with pink things. She hummed as she stole one of those instead.

"If you don't like that one, I'm not taking it," Damian said, and Emma took a tentative sip. She lit up.

"This is delicious! Taste it," she demanded. Damian smiled as he took it from her, an honest-to-God smile, and took a sip.

"Pomegranate," he declared, and Emma stole it back to sip more.

"I like pomegranates, even though I have no clue what they are," she said.

"You know that bananas are berries but you don't know what pomegranates are?" he tutted and pulled a picture of a pomegranate up.

"That looks weirdly icky, but this is good, so I'm gonna stick to the drink," Emma said with a smile. She tilted her head as Damian put his phone back into his pocket, and leaned forward to give his cheek a kiss.

He gave her a surprised look, and then his eyes flicked down to her lips, the lipstick on them. Emma noted that Darcy was right. Damian now had a brightly red imprint of her lips on his cheek.

"Mine," she declared, and took another sip of her drink.

"What?" he said, touching where she'd kissed him.

"Good luck getting that off," Emma beamed at him.

"Yours?" he questioned blankly.

"Mine," Emma agreed. Damian sighed and leaned on the table, looking into her eyes thoughtfully.

"If I'm yours, does that mean you get to be mine?"

"Yup." Damian hummed and bit his lip.

"I like that bargain."

"I bet you do. Now, seeing as I'm yours too, you have to tell me your secret," she demanded.

"You know my secret," Damian argued.

"I know what you do, but I don't know which one of them is you," she protested.

Damian huffed a breath through his nose.

"Let's see how many of the superheroes that I know you know of," Damian suggested.

"Alright. Well, you know I know about Wonder Woman. She's just... The best."

"What are your feelings about Superman?" Damian asked and tilted his head to the side in question.

"Which one is that again?"

"You know who Wonder Woman is, but not Superman?" Damian asked incredulously.

"Well I mean. He's the guy with the red cape and the S thing, right? Yeah, exactly, everyone knows as much as that. Plus, I have undies with his symbol on it, but I prefer to think about it as Supergirl's symbol," Emma said. Damian blanked.

"Your knowledge of him is very limited."

"I don't really care about Superman, as long as he's a good guy."

"I suppose he is," Damian mused thoughtfully. "What about Batman?"

"The guy with the pointy ears," Emma said, using her fingers to demonstrate. "Yeah, I know who he is. Seems like kind of a jerk." Damian smiled.

"I assume you like Supergirl?"

"Amazing hero."

"Nightwing?"

"No clue," Emma frowned.

"Catwoman?"

"Oh yeah, that cool cat! What is it with people and dressing up as animals in your town anyways?"

"What about Red Robin?"

"Sounds like a cool name, but I've never heard of them."

"Batgirl?"

"She seems kickass as _hell_."

"You only seem to recognize the female ones," Damian remarked.

"They're the only ones I've ever looked up to," she replied easily and Damian did his cute little -tt- noise.

"Then you probably won't know which one I am," he sighed.

"Just tell me!" she urged him, grabbing his arm excitedly. He took a deep breath.

"I'm Robin," Damian exhaled. Emma stared at him.

"Okay, I bet that would be so _awesome_ if I knew who that was." Damian slapped a hand to his forehead, and Emma pulled her phone out. "I'm googling, I'm googling!"

"Don't bother," Damian said with an eyeroll, but Emma held her hand up, and scrolled through the pictures Google was providing her with.

"Well I could've figured that out!" she claimed. "I mean, what with how you can see your hair and your mouth, I'd probably be able to tell it was you."

"You think?" he asked curiously.

"Obviously. I'd know your mouth pretty much anywhere," Emma promised.

"Family photo, Emma!" Clint called, and Emma pointed to her drink.

"Don't let anyone touch that," she demanded, and Damian nodded with a small smile as she dashed off to where her entire family was gathered. Emma squeezed in between Clint and Natasha, and Bucky stood behind her.

"Alright everybody, smile!" the photographer urged.

The flash went off, and everyone relaxed. Bucky smiled at her before Darcy pulled him off, probably to make out in a corner, going by Darcy's look.

Natasha and Clint stopped her before she could dash back to Damian.

"Can we have a sec, Em?" Clint asked, smiling still, and Emma nodded.

"Sure, what's up?" she asked, looking up at her parents.

"We're so happy you're here with us, is all," Clint said, taking her hand. Emma grinned.

"I'm happy you two are together, and it was all thanks to me," she said proudly.

"Really now," Natasha smiled, and Clint pulled her into his side, kissing her temple. She really looked gorgeous, in his humble opinion. Her dress was red and really showed off her curves, tight in all the right places. He was definitely looking forward to ripping it off of her later.

"See, when you say that you got your parents together, people usually think 'oh my god, she was an accident, no way her parents wanted her,' blah, blah, blah, but I can honestly say, that my parents got together because of me, and be ridiculously proud of it," Emma grinned.

"My little wingperson," Clint fistbumped her, and she smiled at him.

"You betcha. And I got Bucky and Darcy together too! If anyone is Cupid, it's me."

"Let's hope you don't take after Clint and become a whore with a bow and arrow," Natasha remarked, and Clint gasped in mock-shock.

"Ouch, Nat, still going on about that? If you must know, I'm in a committed relationship."

"You are," Natasha confirmed.

"So am I! I think," Emma remarked.

"Finally got together with Damian?" Natasha smiled. Emma made an indecisive noise.

"He's mine, anyways. I think that's practically the same thing."

"It is," Natasha assured her. Emma grinned brightly.

"Hell yeah," she said.

"You can go back to your date now," Clint said, feeling something pang in his chest. Emma smiled up at them, and pulled Clint down enough to plant a kiss on his cheek, and then one on Natasha's.

"Now you're mine too," she declared.

"That's right, honey," Clint said softly.

"We are," Natasha said just as softly.

"I'm gonna go back to Damian now. See you guys later!" She skipped off, and Natasha pulled Clint tight to her.

"I wonder if it's gonna get harder as she grows up to let her go like that," Natasha murmured.

"Undoubtedly," Clint sighed. "But this is good. Everything is good now." Natasha nodded wordlessly as they watched Emma grab Damian's hand happily.

\---


End file.
